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Sand, Sea, Zombies, Page 4

Blackpool and Fylde Lancashire and Cumbria Wrimos

I was with mangy fur. I don’t know why but it came over to me, most animals had stayed away since I’d changed but this little fella had come right on over to me, sniffing at my hand. I ate him. I couldn’t stop myself, and it started bringing me back to me. I stopped fading, the thirst was quenched and even though I still hated myself, it was easier to eat stray animals than it was to eat humans.

  The other reason I’m still here?

  I decided to murder Ed for murdering me.

  Well yes, I suppose you could get picky that he hadn’t really murdered me as I’m still here talking to you, but he did kill something in me that I was never going to get back. He changed my life, and others, for the worst. For that, he deserves to die. Properly this time. I thought I would start my plan by trying to get away from the rest of the zombies and going home. Maaaan was that a bad idea. My mum opened the door and screamed until my dad came running downstairs with a gun in his hand, I didn’t even think he knew how to shoot a gun, let alone own one. When he saw me he wavered for a second and then held the gun to my face and told me that if I didn’t leave, he would shoot me. I left.

  The only place I could go where I would be safe was back to the Winter Gardens. We’d taken over there pretty early on in the attack and now that’s where most of the zombies in Blackpool lived. It was convenient and big which is exactly what we needed. Obviously, we didn’t all live here; some had taken over houses where there was no one left alive, others had gone back and turned their families and they still lived together.

  It has now been five months, four days, three hours, two minutes and one second, two seconds, three seconds (you get the point) since Ed turned me. I’m sat in a front row seat of the theatre staring up at and empty stage stroking the cat lying in my lap. It’s strange stroking a dead cat, not being able to purr or turn around and attack you when it’s had enough, I was matting its fur with the bodily fluids on my hands but I was still finding it quite therapeutic. That was until the door opened and in walked Ed looking for me. I could tell it was him from his walk and his smell, rotting flesh with a hint of his favourite cologne, and something darker, as though I could smell the evil leaking through his body. He sat down beside me and looked at the cat in my hands in disgust because killing a human is so much better, right?

  ‘We’re going out today, Lily and you’re coming with us.’

  I look at him in confusion. Most of them never go out in the day, and if they do it’s heavily covered in makeup, and Ed is so not one of those types. Or sometimes because a little spark of their humanity has come back, giving them an urge to do something other than eat people, this always gave me hope that we could change.

  ‘Do you mean tonight? And why are you going out tonight? Isn’t it another week before you due to eat? The council won’t have anyone ready for you tonight.’

  He just looks at me like I’m dumb and a horrible thought starts coming to my mind. I’d been hearing whispers of what I thought were just idle threats over the last few weeks. Zombies getting restless and fed up of doing what they were told. Most don’t think like humans you see, I’ve only met two more like me and they’re not here anymore. The majority think like the monsters they are; only concerned with where they’re going to get their next chunk of flesh from. The whispers had turned from the idea of revolting against control to taking control by going on an all-out attack. I’d thought it was just talk until now.

  ‘You can’t be serious Ed. Why would you want to change how things are?’

  He stands up quickly and spins to face me, his height bearing down on me, leaning in he places an arm on either side of me, face so close mine I can see the marks on his skin and the blood in his eyes he begins talking, the smell of rotting flesh makes me feel sick.

  ‘Because we are better than humans. Why should we be the ones forced to live as we are?’

  He let go of my arms and started pacing in front of me.

  ‘We should be out there running the world and doing what we want, not living like animals. I want to do what I choose. And I need you by my side.’

  Spinning back around he digs his nails into my skin giving him blood, his smile turns sadistic and he pulls me up, the cat falling to the floor leaving me speckled with bits of fur and skin. I try and protest but my words fall on deaf ears. When we get out of the theatre I can’t quite believe how many others are there waiting to go. The lobby is full, I didn’t even know there were that many zombies in Blackpool, they must have been recruiting and I had been oblivious to it.

  Ed was dragging me along beside him, a grip that I couldn’t break free of. As we got closer to the doors the sounds of screams began making their way to my ears. We finally made our way out and it was like a scene from all those zombie apocalypse films you see, but made a thousand times worse. The streets had turned to rivers of blood. The skies opened up, flashes of lightening highlighting the feral snarl on the zombie’s faces and the looks of terror on the humans, the rain felt like bullets hitting my skin and made it hard for me to stay on my feet. Ed continued to drag me until we were at the Central Pier.

  He finally let go of me here and grabbed a woman as she was running by, tearing her throat out with his hands and then his mouth. He threw her to the floor turning and looking for his next victim. She was still breathing; I bent down and snapped her neck, putting her out of her misery. I saw Ed on his knees with his back to me. I quietly stalked over and saw he had his face in the stomach of a child. Memories flashed behind my eyes a clock in the distance chimed to say it was half past two.

  Putting my hands around his throat, he leaned into me slightly whilst I bent down to whisper in his ear, ‘Goodbye, Ed,’ I told him before I echoed his earlier actions and tore his throat apart with my bare hands.

  ‘Lily’ the last words leaving his lips as he died.

  It was half past two on a Wednesday afternoon, the heavens were crying and the world was running with blood.

  Hi everyone. My name is Rowanne. I’ve been writing ever since I can remember. I had a few poems published when I was younger and in the last few months, a few of my poems have been appearing in different places! I’m releasing a YA supernatural, detective story soon and I’m working on a very dark crime novel and a poetry book. I also do commission pieces of writing. To keep up with my writing and to see more about what I do pop over to Facebook and give me a like on www.facebook.com/rowanneswriting I’m also on twitter and theprose.com@RowRow1990

  The Black Poole

  by A Isaac

  A blackened claw of a dead hand pushed through the wooden planks. I blinked my eyes, blinded by the afternoon light which pierced the gloom below-deck.

  'Get out! Get out son! The shipwreck's full of 'em!' Father shouted.

  I couldn't move, unable to look away as a black rotting corpse broke a hole through the ship's wall in front of me. Staring at me with blood-red eyes, its shrivelled purple lips curled back, mouth opening wide baring teeth black with rot.

  'Don't just stand there gawking... run!' Father stepped in front, pushing me back. The rotten thing grabbed the front of his jerkin, pulling him towards its snarling mouth. Father slashed the air with his knife, aiming at the dead sailor.

  I looked about for something, anything, I could use as a weapon. A loud creak and the sound of breaking wood clanked through the vessel. The ship shifted, tipping sideways and sending us sliding to the right. 'The ship's sinking into the sand!' I shouted. I bent my knees, stretching my arms towards the approaching wall as the ship listed further. The jolt knocked me off my feet, as the sound of splintering wood against rock echoed in my ears. I was flung back onto the floor, the impact jarring my bones.

  A metallic clunk: 'Damn!' Father cursed as his knife hit the floor. He punched at the corpse's stomach. It staggered back with the first blow, then regained its balance and grabbed for him again.

  'Knife! Get my knife!' Father shouted as he pummelled blows into the fiend's chest, his fists making a hollow sound against its petrified flesh.
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  I barely heard his words over the noise of my pounding heart. I cast my eyes to the edge of the floor near to where the knife must have slid, but couldn't see for the pile of barrels that had broken against the wall. All about was littered with wood. Father went in for another low blow to its stomach; the thing swung its arms high, grabbing his head.

  'Ed! Run...' Father's words turned to a strangled scream as the fiend's fingers dug into his skull.

  'Father!' I called, grabbing a panel of wood that had broken off as the vessel had hit against the rock. I swung at the corpse's head, but my blows had no effect. I narrowly missed hitting Father as it jerked his head from side to side, as if to rip it from his shoulders.

  Tossing the plank aside, I grabbed Father's knife from the floor and slashed at the creature's hands, skull... anywhere I could find exposed. The blade cut through the corpse's ragged linen shirt and into its soft rotting flesh with a sickening squelch, splashing thick black ooze over my hands and across the floor. I threw down the blade, and wiped my hands on the thighs of my breeches. My stomach lurched; I swallowed hard to keep down the bile that had risen in my throat.

  Father gave a last cry as I watched the creature's dead hands; the bones exposed through the mottled oil-black and maggot-white skin as its fingers