My brother had quickly dispatched me from the room, saying that I was such a sissy and not to come back in if I was going to holler like that again.
I stood in the burgundy carpeted hall, feeling that the soft cream walls were closing in on me. I kept telling myself that it couldn't be true, there must be a mistake. But what else could it be? Nothing. Except maybe for some reality TV show playing some sick little game, and are about to jump out of a bush in my garden with their cameras, telling me its all a big joke.
I shook my head. Very very unlikely.
I rubbed my hands together nervously, feeling cold sweat gather on the back of my neck. What was I going to do? I couldn't think straight. My mind was short circuiting; it felt as if a nail bomb had exploded in my head and messed everything up in there, and then distorting reality with it. Zombies did not exist. They belong in horror stories. They're made up. End of story.
Every ragged thought was colliding with another in my head with an almighty bang, and soon my head was splitting with stress.
I took a deep breath, and decided what to do. I paced the hall outside my brothers door, chewing on a fingernail pensively. After hearing too many sickening splats and zombie noises from Andrew's room, I decided to quickly escape to my own.
My room had always been my safe little sanctuary, somewhere were I could just chill and be at peace. The decor was similar to the rest of the house: Cream walls with one red feature wall, were the window was at the top of the room; wooden furniture, and a view of the swaying forest, which was a black shadow in the twilight.
It was small but cosy, and I liked it. I flopped onto my single bed, staring straight up at the ceiling, as my fat tabby cat, Mogg, sauntered through the door and curled up on my stomach, purring comfortingly. He closed his intelligent green eyes contentedly as I scratched him behind his ears.
My musings stopped when the phone on my bedside cabinet rang shrilly, scaring me senseless. I reached over and lifted the phone to my ear after recovering.
"Hello?" I said huskily.
"Whoa, are you okay?" said a familiar, female voice.
Oh, it was just Jess. We had been friends since meeting each other in the first year of secondary school, and had been my first new friend when I started there (Of course I had Chris, we had been best friends since primary school, but it was nice to have a girl friend to hang out with).
"I'm fine. Just a little shaken," I replied after clearing my throat.
"Well, we found you and Chris so at least you're not lying in the forest somewhere getting attacked by deer or something..." She paused, and seemed to be working up to ask me something. "What did he... y'know, say when you found him?"
"Erm... not much," I admitted, my voice being muffled by Mogg stretching luxuriously across my stomach and shoving his russet paw into my face.
"Wasn't he eternally grateful? You practically saved his life y'know," she quipped.
"It was nothing. He would have been fine on his own," I shrugged, removing Mogg's paw gingerly from my face.
"Maybe...he'll ask you out as thanks." I rolled my eyes, Jess was constantly trying to get Chris to ask me out. Her weird obsession was finding me a boyfriend. I could imagine her, sitting at home and curling her blond hair around her finger, her hazel eyes shining with excitement, about to say her same old saying...
"Friends make the best lovers, April," she cackled with laughter loudly in my ear, as if reading my mind.
"I have to go, something has...come up. I'll see you at school." My mind was still focused on the amber eyed zombie... and I had to find out more.
"Oh, okay," she said, sounding taken aback. "See you then."
I set the phone back in it's place. I paused before taking my hand away again. I could just phone him, and check up and see if he's okay. Maybe ask him some more about the strangers in the clearing...
His mum answers after three rings. I asked for Chris, and after some shouting and rustling a wave of relief swept over me when I heard his voice.
"Hi April."
I sat up in a sharp movement, dumping Mogg onto my lap, and he padded from the room eyeing me sulkily.
"Hi. I was just calling to check up on you, to see if you're okay and stuff," I replied dubiously, clutching the phone tight in both of my hands.
"Well, I'm...fine. Yeah, I'm okay. Really, don't worry," he cleared his throat loudly.
"It's just..." My mouth seemed to get very dry suddenly, and my heart picked up pace. What was I going to say? 'Chris, I think you're a zombie?' Nuh uh. That seemed a little...weird. And I was already weird enough as it is.
I wet my dry lips, then continued, "When you said about finding out more about what happened...about how you've changed...how do you plan on doing that?" I gripped the phone even tighter in my fist.
"Uh...going to the clearing or something. Find the people who did it."
"What?" I demanded, my voice shooting up an octave.
"Don't freak out! It's the only way I'll know, April!" he retorted, and my heart stopped dead.
"You want to go back... were the...the... things live? Are you mad? What if they hurt you?"
He paused, and then calmly replied, "I'm more durable than you think."
My voice suddenly got a lot quieter. "Please, please don't go into the forest. I can't go through losing you again," I pleaded, feeling pathetic.
He sighed, his voice torn. "April... please don't make me feel bad..."
"For me. Do it for me. Promise."
"I'm sorry. I can't. Don't be mad. I'll look after myself," he said, his voice soft and soothing.
"Call me when you get back then," I whispered, my heart now throbbing with fear.
"I will. Don't worry. Get some sleep, and I'll see you tomorrow," he reassured, calming me slightly.
"Bye, Chris."
The phone slipped from my fingers, landing on the cabinet with a clatter. I sighed, rubbing my head, trying to expel the throbbing pain in my temples.
I needed to relax. The muscles in my shoulders were twisted into knots, I was wired up like a spring. I headed into bathroom, but the too white walls and pale blue tiles only made my headache worse. The hot shower water helped my sore muscles, and by the time I got out and into my sleep wear, my eyes were tired and red, desperate for rest.
I descended the stairs, and took a left into the living room. My mum was seated on the large brown leather sofa, watching Pushing Daisies on the flat screen while toying with her honey coloured hair, while my dad read the paper, his balding head just visible above it.
"I'm going to bed," I announced. Mum tore her eyes from the screen and dad looked up, with a worried expression.
"Alright, love. You've had a rough day," said dad, eyeing me with his kind electric blue eyes, where I had inherited my own from.
Mum nodded, her own green eyes also tainted with worry. "Sweet dreams, dear," she said, turning back to her show.
Mogg was little comfort for me that night. I clutched his furry body, burying my face into his soft fur after waking up screaming from horrific, gory nightmares, full of amber eyed killers, who dined on the flesh of humans...
--
After little sleep and being on edge the whole day before, I was desperate for his phone call only five minutes after I had got up. I eyed the phone, desperately willing it to ring.
I tried not to think the worst. He was probably just tired, lying in his bed sleeping. Nothing to get in a tizzy about.
My poor head couldn't take much more of the constant worry. The pessimism wasn't helping much either. My eyes drifted towards the clock beside my bed, and according to it was quarter past nine in the morning.
I reached over the side of the bed, lifting my old laptop off the floor, and opened it on my lap and switched it on. When the desktop appeared, I opened the internet, and stared at the Google home page, my hands poised over the keys.
I typed 'Zombies' in after a while, and hit enter. Most of the information I found was unnerving.
The most prominent words and phrases jumped out from the web pages. 'Undead, flesh eater, glowing eyes..."
One particular source sent chills right down my spine. It was an extract from an early poem:
'I will smash the doorposts, and leave the doors flat down,
and will let the dead go up to eat the living!
And the dead will outnumber the living!'
I froze, my mind deadpan, just as the phone rang. It took me a few moments to hear the screaming phone, but I snapped out of my stupor and lunged for it, catching it on the second ring. It was him. I had never been so thankful to hear his voice, ever.
"Chris!" I yelped loudly, a wave of relief washing over me and giving me a few seconds of calm. The calm disappeared when I heard the tone of his voice.
“Just calling to tell you I’m still in one piece.” I gaped in shock. He didn’t sound in one piece. He sounded as if he was completely terrified. His voice was rough and strained.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“April, I’m fine…”
“Stop saying that. You don’t sound fine to me.” I heard him sigh on the other end.
“Something has… came up. I have to go and… sort something.”
“No, wait!” I cried, but it was too late.
The line went dead.
