I Dream of Zombies (6 page)

Marla drove the jeep into the half-empty supermarket car park and found a suitable spot in the middle. As she turned off the engine, she noticed a guy wearing an orange uniform pushing a line of trolleys in the direction of the main entrance at a snail-like pace.

“H
e looks happy,” Ellen remarked on his sour expression.

“Maybe he had a good night last night and he’s feeling the hurt,” Marla
suggested, grabbing her purple bag and slinging it over her shoulder. Once they were out of the car, she locked it. The girls walked across the tarmac and entered the building through the automatic doors. Ellen headed for the magazines, muttering, “need reading material”.

“Very l
ight reading material,” Marla acknowledged, picking up a copy of
National Geographic
.

“Okay, brain box, I’m after something light and refreshing that I can lay on that comfy bed and read when we get back. I just want to chill and snooze.”

“It’s only the afternoon!”

“Yeah, but I’m catching up on all that sleep I lost when I was living on my own and too scared to
shut my eyes,” Ellen answered. “Right, these two will do. Nice. Wow, he’s a bit of all right.”

Marla glanced at the page and grinned. “Double hot. That’s a latte with cream.”

“Eh?”

“It’s my favourite,” said Marla, stumbling over her response. “Erm, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed on a cold night either.”

“I wouldn’t kick him out on a hot one.”

“Really, little sis? You vixen!”

“Vegetables?” suggested Ellen, raising an eyebrow.

Marla drew a blank.
“Eh? Is that a Freudian slip? Banana, anyone, or are you thinking plums?”

Ellen giggled.
“You can start there. I’m heading to the women’s stuff section. I don’t wanna get stuck without you-know-what in the middle of who-knows-where.”

“
Okay, I was still on the hot man track and thought you were talking all suggestive. Anyway, good plan, but I’m coming with you. We’ve never liked the same in most things.”

“You think?” asked Ellen.

“Yeah, we’re like chalk and cheese in a lot of ways, but... mind out!” said Marla, skidding to the side.

A pool of reddish liquid streaked the floor. “Watch out for glass,” added Ellen.

“Can’t see any...”

“
They must have cleared that bit up then.”

Marla
glanced up and grabbed a bottle of red, which she placed in their trolley. “That’s for later.” Turning around, she added some bottles of water and cartons of juice. Next came some bacon and eggs, vegetarian meals for Ellen, and then tins; loads of tins, coffee, tea and powdered milk. Ellen grabbed some flip-flops – “You never know how skanky hostel showers are” – and with a grin, Marla got some too. They moved to the next aisle and chose some toilet rolls and the requisite ‘women’s things’.

“Condoms?” asked Ellen, putting on a serious expression.

“Who for?” enquired Marla.

“Well, Tommy’s kind of cute.”

“You’re joking... you like him?”

Ellen grinned even wider. “I don’t mean me.”

Marla nearly choked. “No way! He’s a friend, like a brother. No, like a girl even. And I haven’t seen him in years.”

“But you have to admit he’s cute.”

Marla shook her head before poking Ellen in the back and heading off in the opposite direction. “Shampoo,” was her end comment. Still shaking her head, she glanced along the rows of bottles and chose a couple.
Hair bands, I’ve definitely run out of those.

Taking her time, Marla turned into the next aisle and looked over the books. The latest bestsellers glared back: thrillers and romances. Something quirky and thought provo
king would be good as she liked novels with interesting people. Often, nothing much happened, but the characters were the thing; the more complex, the better. Simple was just too boring. I guess I need a proper bookshop, she thought, turning around to check out the CDs. A tap on the shoulder made her jump. Turning, she came face to face with her sister.

“Down the next aisle there’s
a woman being sick everywhere,” said a pale-looking Ellen. “She’s doubled up on the floor and looks really ill.”

“We should get someone,” Marla
replied just as a member of staff headed their way, walking swiftly.

“There’s a girl being sick,” said Ellen.

“I know,” the employee snapped without pausing. Her badge read Sharon.

“Nice,” remarked Marla, turning back to the CDs.

“You buying any?” asked Ellen.

Marla shook her head. “Not really, just looking.”

“Let’s just get our stuff and go, eh? I’m feeling kind of tired.”

“The girl being sick freaked you out?”

Ellen nodded. “Yes. We just keep seeing more and more people looking ill. Do we have to wait until Friday to leave? I want to go and see Mum.”

“Me, too,” Marla agreed. “We can always go and Tommy can meet us later if he feels like it. Three can be a crowd anyway. He pissed me off a bit last night with some of his comments.”

“Guess he hasn’t had the dream.”

“Guess not.”

Marla replaced the CD she was looking at and followed her sis
ter down the aisle. At the end of it she gave into the temptation to get a look at the sick girl. She was lying on her side, heaving her insides all over the floor. Kneeling beside her, the woman called Sharon was saying something; probably urging her to sit up, thought Marla. Behind her, two other employees appeared.

The flu was spreading. Marla brushed her hand across her mouth and turned tail to find her sister, who was pushing the trolley towards the section where she remembered chocolate to
live. Good idea, she thought, rushing after her. On passing some white chocolate, she could not resist and picked up a few bars, followed by a carrot cake and some bags of cashew nuts. With her hands full of sweet stuff, she turned the corner in the direction her sister had taken and then she dropped everything.

Ellen looked to be frozen on the spot, her hands rooted on the handle
of the trolley. In front of her a pool of deep red liquid was spreading slowly across the floor, trickling towards her feet. A woman lay sprawled, her arms fluttering like butterfly wings on the cold tiles. Her stocking-clad legs were trembling and her feet twitched, one foot twisted the wrong way. A carton of milk had burst open, the pure whiteness swirling amongst the red, creating a pattern resembling a twisting snake.

Marla swallowed. It was the woman’s insides that stole her attention and sent a chill through her body. Sickness crept into her throat, but she reminded herself that she had seen worse in warzones. But no, it had been nothing like this. Never had she seen anything like this. The man leaning over the woman was ripping the organs from her stomach, splashing blood
all over himself while her body twitched.
How could she still be alive?
His bony fingers weaved through her entrails, scooping them up and emptying them into his mouth.

At that moment Ellen screamed and the man
looked straight at her. But man was the wrong word, Marla realised. His eyes were white and bloodshot, and the skin of his face was as pale as a corpse, but what made her skin crawl was the lack of any expression. There was nothing there in his eyes; nothing resembling consciousness. Then he rose to his feet. Stumbling towards them, he slipped in the pool of blood and crashed into the trolley. It hurtled backwards, throwing Ellen to the floor.

Behind her, Marla heard footsteps and screams from different voices. Everything was happening too fast, and yet time seemed to slide like mercury gliding over a flat surface. As her head swam, she grabbed the handlebars of the trolley and rammed it into the man, who did not have any reaction
at all. He did not try to move out of the way and neither did he push back; he simply collapsed backwards into the shelves behind him. Tins poured down over his head, but still he did not react.

Marla blinked.
What the hell is going on?
Then she remembered her dream... Sinking its teeth into her neck and ripping... Shaking her head in disbelief, she rammed the trolley into the now standing man again. He moaned and sank to the ground. She noticed then how one of his ears was missing and the side of his head resembled a congealed mass of blood. The greying skin was hanging off and one of his arms was twisted in an unnatural way. An unearthly groan filled the air and a putrid smell reached her nostrils. It was all she could do not to wretch. She rammed him once again, but then the corpse on the floor began to twitch. It was moving. It was alive.

“Marla!”

She turned, trembling, to see her sister standing behind her with eyes as wide as saucers. Ellen was tugging her arm, but she had not even felt it. In that second she came to her senses. Grabbing her sister’s hand, Marla charged down the aisle. The place was filled with screaming shoppers, frozen to the spot in fright. “Run!” she shouted at them. “He killed a woman!” People turned to follow as they ran towards the exit of the shop. Marla did not dare to turn. She skidded as they turned the corner. “A woman’s been murdered!” she shouted at the cashiers, who glanced her way with blank expressions. “Get out!”

The exit sign glared, and Marla and Ellen charged outside into the bright
glare of the sun. Without looking back, they kept running until they reached the jeep. Fumbling for her keys, Marla had to stop for breath and calm herself down. A glance back at the building showed the entrance spewing streams of people, all looking scared to death and half of the women were screaming. Opening the doors of the jeep, Marla motioned for Ellen to get in and then she slid into the driver’s seat, before locking the doors.

Without saying any
thing, she reached into her bag, pulled out her mobile phone and dialled 999. “Police,” she said when asked the nature of the emergency. “There’s been a murder inside the supermarket off Beryl Street... Yes... A woman murdered by a man... He was eat...” She paused. “There was another woman being sick. She looked as if she had the flu that is being reported in the news... No, I’m serious... Yes, the woman is dead. Everyone is running out of the building now, and he’s still in there... Okay. Yes, I can make a statement... No, I don’t want to wait here. There is something wrong with the man. He doesn’t look... doesn’t look... nothing,” she added, realising that what she was about to say could put everyone at risk if the woman on the end of the phone thought she was a crazy prank caller. “Yes, I can make a statement later today. It’s Marla Hardy. Thanks. Bye.”

“Please just drive,” said Ellen, gripping her hands
together in an effort to prevent them from shaking.

“’Kay,” mumbled Marla, sticking the key in the
ignition and checking her rear-view mirror.

“Do you think everyone got out?”

“Yes, I hope so. Ellen, please don’t cry. I’m driving. We’ll be home soon. Well, we’ll be at Tommy’s soon. Try to forget what you saw. I know that’s hard. Think about something else – anything.”

“What was wrong with him?”
her sister whispered while looking sideways at her.

“I don’t know,
” Marla replied.

“He didn’t look human.”

“I know.”

“But he was human.”

“Yes.”

“But he didn’t look alive. He looked like the man in my dream.”

Marla nodded, unable to speak. She glanced in the rear-view mirror again as they left the car park, half expecting the man to be running behind the car. Her nightmares were becoming real, but how? “You okay?” she asked, glancing at her sister after a few minutes.

Ellen was still looking down at her hands. She nodded without turning. Marla
carried on watching her out of the corner of her eye as she drove them all the way back to Tommy’s place. They got out of the car in silence and made it to the front door of the showroom. It opened automatically. Marla clocked the place as she headed towards the back, almost bumping into Tommy as he appeared, walking in their direction.

“Want me to help you get
your bags from the boot?” he asked, giving a big grin. “Waiting for the big, strong man, eh, girls?”

Marla stared blankly and Ellen burst into tears. Without saying a word, she strode over to the side door that led to the staircase up to the flat and disappeared inside.

“Something I said?” asked Tommy.

“I need a beer,” Marla replied. “Can you close shop for a minute?”

“I can just come out if someone comes in...”

“No,
I mean can you lock those doors?”

Tommy frowned.

“I’d feel safer. I need to talk to you about something that just happened – something unbelievable.”

Tommy
looked confused, but nodded all the same. After securing the doors, he flipped the sign on the door to show ‘Closed’ and wandered back. “Fire away!”

Marla shook her head. “Beer first or whisky... anything... I’ll take
whatever you’ve got,” she added, waving her hands in the air, “because everything is
so
fucked up.”