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<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The lion sleeps today''@@
It’s your little brother, Jack, who starts the conversation, as you drive slowly through the lion enclosure of the safari park. "Mum, if we got attacked by a lion, what would you do?" he asks.
Normal families chat about the TV, or sport, or perhaps what books everyone’s read recently. Not yours, though. Less than an hour into your family minibreak, and already the three of you are talking about life-or-death situations and how to survive them.
Mum thinks for a moment. "I'd distract it," she says eventually. "I'd make loads of noise and wave my arms about, then run off so it chased me, and meanwhile you two could run in the other direction."
"Wow. You'd sacrifice yourself for us?" Jack sounds impressed.
Mum looks at his serious face in the rearview mirror. Jack worries about everything. Mum worries about him. "Well, yes, of course, but also that's the best chance of us all surviving."
"Not being funny, but I don't think you could outrun a lion," you say.
Mum raises her eyebrows at you. "I'd give it a good go. Lions are fast over short distances but they can't keep it up for long."
You're pretty good runners in your family. Mum ran the London marathon once, back in the day, and she still does the odd park run now, but you’re faster – the second-best runner on your school's under-17 cross-country team.
You catch your first glimpse of the lions, a male and two females, dozing in the long grass like giant cuddly kitties. The big cats are the last animals on the tour, and definitely your favourites. You imagine touching that thick fur, your hand disappearing up to the wrist, surrounded in soft cosiness. The rational part of your brain knows they'd make Whiskas of you in no time, but still part of you is thinking that they're only cats – surely you could get out and give them a little pat and a tickle on the tummy. You sit on your hands as Mum drives slowly on again. You wait for the exit gates to open, then you’re out of the enclosure, the gates slamming shut behind you.
A moment later there’s an even louder noise as, out of nowhere, a small plane appears, flying low above the trees. The deep droning sound it makes is like a billion killer bees, and, as it passes over the car and on, over the forest surrounding the park, you know it has to be an optical illusion but it seems to be almost brushing the treetops.
"Is that normal?" you ask. "Do you think it's crashing?"
Mum shakes her head. "I doubt it. It's just coming in to land. I did read something in the information pack about there being a military airfield close by. They say Paradise Grove can't be held responsible for any noise."
You wind down your window, just a crack, and a moment later you think you hear an impact. "Did you hear that?" you ask the others.
Mum just shakes her head. "Probably just a gate closing somewhere.”
It certainly didn't sound like a gate. Will you [[tell Mum that->Blame the messenger]] or [[let it go->Another day in paradise]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Another day in paradise''@@
Mum drives out of the safari park then, just a few hundred metres down the road, you see a sign bearing the Paradise Grove logo, and beneath it the resort's slogan, "The UK's premier activity resort”.
You've had a hell of a year – all the stuff with Dan, your ex-stepdad, and then Jack's problems at school - and this holiday is a new start: a chance for the three of you to relax and have fun together. A chance for Mum to show you that things really are going to change, that from now on she's going to keep her promise to put you and Jack first.
Mum takes the turning, following the road that cuts through the dense forest of pine trees. The trees stretch up to the sky, dead straight, their tops out of sight. Soon you reach a little booth, where a smiley lady hands Mum a map of the resort and the key to your lodge.
You turn a corner and catch your first glimpse of the Pleasure Dome – the huge mall that houses the resort's swimming pool as well as shops, restaurants and a bowling alley – then pass the boating lake and the obstacle course, set high up in the pine trees. Lining the road are single-storey log cabins, identical except for the numbers above their front doors. They have big front windows, through which you can see the perfect identical kitchens, all clean and white and empty.
Mum parks the car outside your lodge, then you run up the short path to open the door. As you turn the key, you hear voices to your left, and turn to see your neighbours for the weekend: four men in their twenties, three of them on their way to the lodge, each carrying a tray of beer cans, while the third waits by their little red car, standing guard over the rest of their stash.
Ten minutes later, your little weekend bags are unpacked. "Can we go to the Pleasure Dome?" you ask. You can't wait to check out that amazing pool – and go on the water slides.
"Of course," Mum says, but then you hear that sound – the world's most annoying noise; the sound Mum had promised would be kept to the absolute, absolute minimum this weekend: her phone. Work.
She’s already halfway out of the door, pacing backwards and forwards outside the lodge, giving instructions to her staff on how to deal with the latest crisis. You get it, really you do. Mum and Dad set up their estate agency when you were a baby, then when Dad died Mum ended up running the whole show. You know – because she's told you a million times – that it's not easy running a business, and you know – because she's told you a billion times – that everything she does is for you and Jack, to keep you clothed and fed and with a roof over your heads. It's just that her phone has a bad habit of always ringing right when you need her most. That was one of the promises she made, when she found out what had been going on with Dan. She promised to make more time for you. And yet here you are, waiting, while, once again, she's on the phone.
Will you [[bang on the window to remind her of her promise->Hanging on the telephone]] or [[explore the lodge while you wait->The only way to travel]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Blame the messenger''@@
"That wasn't a gate!" you say, your voice coming out a bit louder than you intended. "Seriously, Mum - I think that plane just crashed in the forest."
"Did it, Mum? Did it crash?" Jack stares at Mum's reflection in the rearview mirror, his eyes pleading for reassurance.
Mum sucks a deep, noisy breath in through her nose, then lets it out even more slowly and even more loudly. "I'm only going to ask you this once," she says. "You know as well as I do what we've been through this year, and how much all of us need this holiday. So I'm asking you, nicely, to please stop bloody well winding up your brother."
"I-"
"I'm not joking."
Now it's your turn to sigh, letting go of the injustice as you wind up the window and [[Mum drives slowly onwards->Another day in paradise]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Hanging on the telephone''@@
You tap your knuckle on the glass and Mum turns to look at you. "What?" she mouths.
Realising that speaking your mind might do more harm than good, you go for cutesiness instead. Why not? It always works for Jack. You put your hands together as if praying. "Pleasure Dome?" you mouth, composing your face into the most desparate expression of pleading you can manage.
Mum smiles and nods, raising an index finger. "One minute," she mouths.
"Thank you, Mummy," you mouth back, with a grin [[fit for a psycho-killer->The only way to travel]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The only way to travel''@@
Jack's already plugged in his tablet and is playing one of the stupid free apps he loves so much. This time it's the one about killing zombies. "I only need three more brains to level up," he tells you, as if you cared. Then, a moment later, "Yes! I'm onto the next horde."
He likes to commentate the games when he plays – you know, telling everyone how amazingly he's doing and what he's going to do next. It's unbearable.
You tell him to shut up, which he takes notice of for approximately two seconds before starting up again.
You wander across the room to peer out of the big glass doors at the back of the lodge, into the forest. Someone has built a den by leaning a load of tall branches against one of the trees, and a cute little squirrel is using it as a ramp. It looks like it's following an obstacle course, like the one you saw by the lake earlier.
Then another movement catches your eye, and one of the Paradise Grove staff comes into view in his distinctive turquoise sweatshirt and beige trousers. He's moving oddly through the forest, coming towards the lodge quickly but smoothly, as if he's hovering above the ground. It takes you a moment to realise he's holding onto the handlebars of a Segway.
Behind him follows a string of guests, each of them standing perfectly upright, eyes fixed dead ahead, as they glide along a path through the trees. You can't help laughing, then feel a bit guilty as one of them happens to glance in the direction of your lodge and you make eye contact for a second. He quickly looks away.
"Look, Jack," you say. "This is hilarious."
"In a minute," he says, without looking up.
The riders reach the chainlink fence that marks the edge of the Paradise Grove site, swoop back on themselves and are gone.
"What?" Jack asks, finally joining you at the window.
"Too late. You missed it."
The squirrel is still there though, and now it scurries over towards your patio, putting its tiny hand up against the glass then sitting back on its hind legs, looking up at you expectantly.
"It wants to come in!" Jack says.
As you're fiddling with the locks, Mum comes back, her phone still in her hand and a distracted expression on her face that you know means her mind is still in the office. It melts into a smile when she sees the squirrel though.
You began to slide the door open, but suddenly the squirrel turns its head away – as if hearing something, out among the trees – and then runs off.
"Maybe it'll come back," Mum says.
A couple of minutes later you're back in the car, driving back to drop it off in the carpark. Paradise Grove is, the brochure had explained, a car-free village, so for the rest of the weekend you'll be walking. You park up, then [[stroll back towards the Pleasure Dome->Welcome to the Pleasure Dome]] for your first swim.
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Welcome to the Pleasure Dome''@@
The automatic doors swoosh open to let you into what looks like a big shopping centre. You weave your way through the crowds, following the signs for the Mediterranean Water World, trying to ignore Jack's whining as you pass the sweetshop: "But they've got pick-and-mix!"
"We'll get some tomorrow," Mum says. "Come on, let's get to the pool."
You follow the delicate aroma of chlorine into the changing rooms, and a few minutes later you emerge, out into the Mediterranean Water World. You and Jack run down the steps into the shallow end of the pool. The water is much warmer than at the leisure centre back home, and you wade right in without hesitating. "Don't run!" Mum shouts half-heartedly, but you're already swimming out towards the deep end, her voice cutting out as your ears fill with water. The pool is surrounded by palm trees, and above you the domed, translucent roof makes you feel like you're inside a bubble – like a space station on Mars.
Halfway across the pool is a rope linking dozens of little floats which you have to duck under to get into the deeper bit. You guess the idea is to stop little kids drifting out there by mistake. You hold your breath and psych yourself up to duck under, but you're not exactly the world's most confident swimmer, and you feel your heart do a funny little jerk at the thought of being completely submerged. //Don't panic//, you tell yourself. //Don't think about anything scary.//
Bad move. When you were little, you used to wind Jack up by saying things like, "Whatever you do, don't think about penguins." So, of course, he'd immediately get a picture of a penguin in his head, and you'd laugh at him, and he'd go bananas. Now, as soon as you tell yourself not to think about anything stressful – bang – there it is, all the events of the past few years, like the recap at the start of a TV show: "Previously, on your life..." Dad getting ill, then his funeral, then that awful moment, less than a year later, when you realised how often Mum had been mentioning Dan, her friend from the running club, and the huge row. And then all the stuff after Dan moved in, and that afternoon at the hospital.
But you definitely aren't going to think about that. You shake your head, as if to reset your brain, and duck under the water.
Less than a second later you're out the other side, still alive, just a bit wetter. You catch up with Jack in the queue for The Tempest, described in the Paradise Grove brochure as "the jewel in the crown of Mediterranean Water World.
You sit with Mum and Jack on a big rubber ring and hold on tight as the attendant gives you a push and you bob along into the opening of the huge tube. Blue and green lights play on the walls of the slide, and you almost begin to relax.
And then you look ahead, to where the slide disappears. You're about to go down a sheer vertical drop. You don't know how far down it goes, and you don't want to find out.
You read all the warning signs on the way up the steps - all the dire threats of the terrible bodily injury that would befall you if you didn't sit still and hold on tight. There were even diagrams. But - my God - that drop's getting closer. Will you hold your nerve and [[hold on tight->Riders on the storm]] or [[try to get out->The great escape]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Riders on the storm''@@
If there was any way to stop that stupid ring gently bobbing along towards certain injury, if not death by drowning, then you'd take it, but getting out of the ring is surely even more dangerous than staying in, and in any case your hands are now gripping the handholds so tightly you probably couldn't have let go if you wanted to.
Now you're dropping, but it doesn't feel like all your insides are dropping at quite the same rate. This just can't possibly be safe. You're going to fall out of the ring and be smashed to pieces on the walls of the slide, and then probably drown. What a stupid, pointless way to die. Your whole body fills up with fear and horror, and the only way to get it out of you is to scream, so you do, over and over, holding on so tightly that your fingers make tiny half-moon indentations in your palm. The ring swings chaotically up the sides of the swerving slide, each time almost – not quite, but so nearly almost – tipping you over. This has to be wrong. Nobody could have designed something so dangerous and horrible. No, something has clearly gone dangerously wrong, and you're going to be a news story: Family of Three Dies on Waterslide to Hell.
After one last, horrifying drop, and a massive splash that sends water up your nose and leaves you coughing, the ring drifts out towards a bored-looking attendant. You half-climb, half-fall out of the ring.
"Let's do it again!" Jack shouts.
Your legs feel a bit wobbly. "I'm going to try the Lazy River," you tell them.
Mum looks at you with a kind of sideways smile. "Shall I come with you?"
"No, no, I'm fine."
You try to look confident as you march off without a backwards glance.
The Lazy River is much more relaxing, and you let your body float in the rushing water, sweeping around in laps, gently kicking your legs a little every now and again. The water takes you along in a big loop, right out of the Pleasure Dome, round the outdoor pool, then back inside again. As you pass the entrance you see Mum and Jack clinging onto the rail there, waiting for you. They let go as you pass, and the three of you go round together, sometimes holding hands, sometimes with Jack's arms around Mum's neck, giggling and splashing. After a couple of laps Jack says he's hungry, and you realise that you're starving too, so you haul yourselves out.
A crowd of people in swimming costumes have gathered just by the entrance to the changing rooms. As you approach, you see that they're pointing and staring in the direction of the toddler pool. Two lifeguards are frogmarching a large man in bright red swimming shorts towards a door marked "Staff Only", while another, grim-faced, carries a large fishing net towards the pool. Watching the scene is a man in a grey suit who you recognise from the photo above the "Letter from the manager" in the brochure. He doesn't look too happy, to say the least.
"Disgusting," an older lady is saying. "Should be ashamed of himself."
You watch as the large man is led away, staggering a little from side to side. The lifeguards look like they have a tight grip on his arms.
The woman tuts loudly. "Fancy being in that state with all the kiddies around."
"What's going on?" Mum asks.
"Some drunk was in the kiddies' pool," the woman's husband tells her. "I think he was sick. Absolute disgrace. I don't know what this country's coming to."
The third lifeguard dips the fishing net into the water to scoop something out, visibly grimacing.
"Come on kids," Mum says, ushering you away. That seems to be everyone's cue to move on. Even the most curious rubbernecker doesn't want to watch vomit being scooped out of a toddler pool.
Mum puts her hands on Jack's shoulders and you follow them towards the changing rooms. But just as you turn the corner something makes you look back. At that moment the drunk man turns his head too. That's how it happens that you're the only one to get a proper look at his face, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping, and an oozing scarlet hole where his nose should be.
You walk through the footbath and catch Mum and Jack up at the showers. Will you [[tell them what you saw->Facing facts]] or [[try to forget it->Show me the way to go home]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The great escape''@@
Your brain seems stuck in a loop of indecision, like a crashing computer programme, but in the end your body makes the decicision for you, as your fingers straighten themselves out, your legs lift and turn, and you slip off the outer edge of the ring and into the water.
Your feet kick out, seeking the bottom, but your toes just brush the smooth plastic of the slide. You can't get any purchase against it to slow yourself down. You're still hurtling towards the drop; the only difference is that now you don't have the safety of the ring.
You hear Mum shout your name, but then water fills your ears again. Mum and Jack drop out of sight. You close your eyes tightly, and there's just time for the phrase "Darwin Awards" to flit across your mind before you [[start to fall->Wake up and smell the chlorine]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Facing facts''@@
"Did you see that man's face?" you gasp.
"What man?" Mum asks.
"The drunk. In the toddler pool. Did you see his face?"
"No. Why?"
Suddenly you feel like a bit of a jerk – like that kid on the bus who asks why the fat lady's tummy is so big and if she's having a baby. You don't want to seem ableist or something. You lower your voice. "He didn't have a nose."
"What?" Mum's voice is embarrassingly loud.
"He didn't have a nose. It looked like he'd had an accident. Like it had been cut off."
She looks sceptically at you. "He probably just had a lot of blood on his face. Noses do bleed a lot. Maybe he'd slipped over."
"It didn't look like there was much blood. It just looked like it wasn't there."
Mum is silent for a moment. "Right, come on," she says, changing the subject. "Let's find our lockers."
And that's that. You get yourselves dried and dressed, and set off for the [[walk back to the lodge->Show me the way to go home]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Show me the way to go home''@@
They don't have much street lighting at Paradise Grove – just strings of fairy lights in the trees alongside some of the footpaths – so the night sky looks amazing. You make out The Plough, and a line of three stars that you recognise as being part of another constellation. Dad must have pointed it out to you at some point. You can see both of those at home sometimes, if it's a clear night. But here, away from the city lights, you can see hundreds more stars, most of them no more than teeny-tiny specks of light. It's weird to think they're there all the time, even when you're in the city, but you just can't see them. Now you come to think of it, you guess they're there in the daytime too. It makes you wonder how much else goes on in the universe that you know nothing about. But you're far too sleepy to be getting so philosophical, and soon you're glad to be back in the lodge, scoffing pizza then climbing into your plush bed for a [[good night's sleep->Born to run]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Born to run''@@
Getting back to nature is all well and good, but you'd forgotten how bloody noisy nature can be. The dawn chorus would be so lovely if it didn't happen at dawn.
You lie there with your eyes closed, trying and failing to go back to sleep, before finally giving up and creeping out of bed and into the kitchen. Of course there's nothing decent for breakfast. The plan had been to go to the supermarket before you set off the previous day, but as usual there'd been a last-minute work emergency and Mum had gone dashing off to sort it out. By the time she got back it was such a rush to get to the safari park before last admissions that all you did was grab a few bits and pieces from your almost-empty kitchen.
So the breakfast choices this morning are bread, one slice of last night's pizza or Mum's boring cereal: nothing at all involving chocolate, pastry or sugar-coatings. You opt for pizza, and a few minutes later you're in your vest, shorts and trainers, heading out of the door for your morning run.
There's hardly anyone else around. It rained a little overnight, and the grass verges have turned to mud in places, so you keep to the tarmac for now. Most people haven't bothered to close their living-room blinds, so you can see right into the identical rooms, with their identical chairs and identical dining tables. Some are piled high with brightly coloured boxes of breakfast cereal or enormous multipacks of beer, while others still look empty. Seeing the beer cans reminds you that on your way home last night you met your next-door neighbours again. They certainly looked like they'd been making a dent in their own beer mountain.
Now, as you follow a curve in the road and pass close to a lodge on the corner, its front door opens and a tired-looking bespectacled man emerges, pushing a buggy containing a screaming toddler in a fleecy tiger onesie. You mutter a good morning but he doesn't seem to hear you as he marches impassively up the path, his shoulders hunched as he peers down at the phone in his hand, ignoring his child's cries.
You speed up a little, following the road down to the lake, then around its shores. There's a small, sandy beach area, and a pier, to which half a dozen pedalo boats are tied up. You circle the lake, then turn off the road onto one of the paths that leads through the trees. The air smells damp here, and you feel like it's cleaning the city dirt out of your lungs with each breath.
The path leads right up to the chainlink fence that marks the edge of the site. At its top is an angled metal section strung with razor wire, just like in prison dramas. The shiny points catch the light like raindrops. Mum's been going on and on about how ridiculously expensive this holiday was, so you can see why they want to keep intruders out, but you can't help feeling like one of the animals in the safari park as you follow the fence back round in the direction of your lodge.
After a couple of hundred metres you come across a gate, fastened with a huge padlock. It looks like a service entrance, presumably leading into the safari park next door. If you'd known about that yesterday, maybe you could have figured out a way to sneak through and wouldn't have had to pay £80 for your Super-Advance Non-Refundable Family Saver Ticket.
The path emerges out onto the road and you see the man with the buggy again, still stony-faced, still staring at his phone, with the poor child still screaming. You suppose they've been kicked out of the lodge by his wife so she can have a lie-in. You give him what you hope is a sympathetic smile as he approaches, but he barely glances up. There's a smear of what looks like blood on his neck. He must have cut himself shaving. That's what sleep-deprivation does to you, you guess.
You look at your watch: you've been out nearly half an hour. That'll do. You jog slowly [[back to the lodge->The bad old days]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The bad old days''@@
Mum and Jack are eating their cereal. "Paintball in an hour," Mum says, grinning.
"Hope you're both ready to get your asses kicked," Jack says.
"Language!" Mum says, trying to sound stern.
"What? Ass isn't swearing. It's not as bad as arse."
"Oi! Knock it off!"
Jack giggles and changes the subject. "Mum, can we get some pick-and-mix on the way to paintball?"
"I don't think we've really got time, love. Maybe afterwards. We need to go to the supermarket anyway. We've got nothing for lunch."
Jack whines in disappointment, but he knows there's no point arguing with Mum. That's kind of the problem. Of course, she's a great Mum. She's never smacked you, she hardly ever shouts, and she never makes you eat Brussels sprouts. It's just that she's so busy, all the time, working so hard for all of you, and sometimes she doesn't have the time or the mental space to listen to you. That's how things got so bad with Dan.
He lost his job, so it made sense for him to move in with you. To save money, Mum said. Of course nobody was trying to replace Dad. Of course not. But since Dan wasn't working, and Mum was working so very hard, suddenly it was Dan who was there when you got home from school, Dan giving you dinner, Dan yelling at you for being too noisy and Dan banning your "annoying little friends" from the house. You tried to tell Mum about the yelling, and about that time he forgot to pick Jack up from school, but she wouldn't listen. She said everyone makes mistakes and you aren't so perfect yourself.
And then it got worse. Mum left the money for Jack's school trip to Calais on the mantelpiece but, according to Dan, when he went to pick it up it had gone. By the time you got home after track practice, Mum had already spoken with Dan and Jack, and they'd both denied taking it. Jack was too young to lie convincingly, and Dan - well, you guess she just trusted Dan more than she trusted you. It was Dan who said you should be made to pay it back; Dan who said selling your PlayStation should just about cover it. Six months later, once Dan was gone, Mum said she'd replace it, but you told her not to bother. It was too late by then.
You gather up some clean clothes, and as you go into the bathroom for your shower you can't help noticing that Mum's fiddling with her phone again, frowning as she tries and fails to check her emails. "Signal's gone completely now," she mutters.
She looks up at you, and your face must show what you're thinking, because she puts the phone down on the dining table. "Never mind," she says. "I'm sure they can manage without me for one weekend." It's a bit too smiley, a bit too cheerful, but you smile back anyway. At least she's trying. You go to get [[ready for paintball->The family that sprays together]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The family that sprays together''@@
You set off to the War Games Centre at a brisk pace. "Hope you're wearing old clothes," Jack teases, "Because you're about to get a lot of paint on them."
"Yeah, yeah, we'll see," you reply. You're trying to sound nonchalant, but actually you're so excited you're struggling not to run.
You hear a noise behind you and turn to see the Paradise Grove Super Shuttle crawling towards you. This is the resort's minibus, laid on to help those who are too infirm, young, drunk or bone idle to get around the resort. As it slowly passes you, Jack waves at the passengers. Not one of them reacts, each of them just staring straight ahead as if he were invisible.
"Miserable sods," says Mum.
You continue on your way, past the lake and the Pleasure Dome, dodging little kids on scooters and trikes, and their parents, many of them weaving around on bicycles, looking like they haven't travelled on two wheels since the last millennium. Once you pass the Pleasure Dome, things quieten out – this path only leads back to the War Games Centre and the carpark.
Standing at the doorway of the War Games Centre is a young woman, smiling so enthusiastically it seems like your arrival is the best and most exciting ever to happened to her.
"Are you ready to rumble?" she asks. Her bleached-blonde hair is scraped back into a perfectly swishy ponytail and she's dressed in a turquoise sweatshirt, with black waterproof trousers that make a crackling, crisp-packet noise every time she moves.
"Yes!" Mum and Jack reply enthusiastically. You just nod, cringing a bit.
The woman is wearing bright pink lipstick which, combined with her over-the-top, children's-TV-presenter act, makes her whole face look like one massive toothy grin.
"Excellent! I'm Amy, and I'm one of your instructors today. There's four families booked in this morning, so you guys will be teaming up with another gang. I'll take you to get kitted out while we wait for the others."
"Do we have to be on the same side?" Jack looks disappointed.
Amy nods. "I'm afraid so. We used to let siblings go in different teams but, well, it didn't end well."
"I can imagine," Mum says. "Come on guys. We'll make an awesome team."
Amy leads the way into a room lined with lockers and filled with long wooden benches with pegs above, like the changing rooms at school. It even has the same smell of feet, not quite covered up with lemon-scented disinfectant. On one wall is a large TV.
She hands each of you an all-in-one camouflage jumpsuit to put on over your clothes. Jack insists on trying to put his on without taking off his trainers and gets completely stuck. Mum has to hold onto him round his waist while Amy heaves the overalls off so he can start again.
"Great army we make," you mutter. "We can't even dress ourselves."
Thankfully, your opponents aren't around to witness your incompetence. The first of the other families arrives just as Mum is helping Jack do up the poppers in the front of his overalls, because apparently even that's beyond him.
There's a mum and dad, with two sons, both a couple of years older than you. The two mums grin at each other, while the rest of you shuffle around avoiding eye contact.
You try to size them up a bit. The mum keeps giggling and saying "sorry" for no apparent reason. No danger at all. The boys will be the main threat. They look about 18 or 19, either very close in age or possibly twins: old enough to be bigger and stronger than you, but not so old that they might feel mean to be shooting at a little kid.
The dad has his back to you. He looks quite sporty, but surely he'll be worried about seeming like an asshole if he starts seriously fighting a woman and kids. Maybe he and the other dads will get all macho and competitive together, and meanwhile you can sneak in and shoot them when they least expect it.
And then he turns round, and for a moment you think you're going to be sick, because he looks exactly – //exactly// – like Dan: same haircut, same eyebrows that you can tell he plucks in the middle, same squinty eyes, so piggy and small that it's impossible to see what colour they are. You might actually have gasped.
Of course, it isn't him, but that thought's in your head now. You watch as he hides his son's shoe under the bench, and it doesn't look like an annoying dad joke to you but a nasty bit of bullying. Even the way he pats his wife's thigh to get her to shove up on the bench looks like a threat.
//Stop being stupid//, you tell yourself. //You're not really scared of some random dad are you?// But you are. You try telling yourself that this is going to be fun; that soon you'll be splattering paint at him, and that it'll be revenge for everything that monster did. You even practise a few cheesy wisecracks, inside your head of course, as you imagine the rainbow-coloured balls drenching him. //Feeling a little blue, Dan?//, imaginary-you quips vampire-slayerishly. //Are you seeing red? Or perhaps you're green with envy about our new life?//
It doesn't work. You just want him to go away. What will you do: [[try to ignore him->Let us spray]] and enjoy the paintball or [[leave->Blast from the past]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Let us spray''@@
Soon Amy's back again. "OK guys," she says perkily. "It looks like the others are a no-show, so we'll get on with the safety briefing. If I could ask you all to watch carefully, and save any questions for the end, that'd be awesome."
And with that she turns on the TV. Super-naff guitar music pounds out at high volume, then a man with a buzzcut who looks like he sprinkles steroids on his cornflakes appears on screen, barking instructions. You try to focus on what he's saying, but you can't help speculating on what went so wrong with his life that he ended up yelling safety advice at idiots like you, rather than bullying new recruits in an actual army. Your best guess is that was he was kicked out for torturing prisoners.
The charming man spends five minutes warning you of the horrific consequences that will ensue if you so much as think about taking your mask off, or shooting anyone at point-blank range, or running around like maniacs without paying attention to rabbit holes and tree roots. Sergeant Killjoy also says you're not allowed to shoot the referee (dammit – Amy the Perky really was very annoying), or anyone on your own team (Jack groans at this, so you elbow him in the ribs).
After more appalling music – perhaps it's deliberately irritating to get you riled up and ready for battle – Amy turns the TV off again.
Just then the door opens and another of the staff, a young man with dark hair and incredibly pale skin, scurries up to Amy and whispers something in her ear. For a moment her face falls, but then the vivacious, TV-presenter Amy is back in the room. "OK guys. This is Simon. He's going to be helping me referee today. Right, pop your masks on."
She and Simon hand out the masks. They have goggles built in to the top part, and then a ventilated section across the mouth and nose so you can breathe. You look like Darth Vader and Bane got together to start a fashion line, but at least the mask hides Dan II's horribly familiar features.
"Right, out you go," Amy says. "Watch out for those trip hazards."
A moment later you're in possession of a surprisingly heavy gun, its blue hopper fully loaded with paintballs. The other family have red guns. And then you're following Amy and Simon down the path – ever-vigilant for trip hazards of course – and out to the Field of Battle. Amy is clearly trying to get you all in the mood, staring off into the woods as if there might be snipers in there, and constantly turning round to check you're all still following her. They really take health and safety seriously round here.
Jack, of course, does manage to trip over a tree root. He shrieks, and Amy and Simon swing round, both looking genuinely frightened. They're obviously really, really worried about those trip hazards.
"What's the matter? What happened?" Amy practically yells.
"I'm OK," he mutters. "I just tripped."
"Christ! Don't scream like that."
"Sorry," Jack says quietly. "I couldn't help it."
Mum puts her arm across Jack's shoulders. "Don't worry," she says, softly so that Amy won't hear. "She's just embarrassed that she jumped. C'mon, let's shoot those losers."
Now that the panic has faded, you're actually quite keen to turn Dan II into modern art, but first you have to practise with a few shots at a wooden target. You brace yourself, expecting the gun to jump backwards - you've seem enough action films to know what a recoil is - but the paint just flies out and splatters on the target, not too far from the centre, and the gun barely jolts. Easy.
The first game is Capture The Flag. Amy takes you, Mum and Jack over to one side of the field, while Simon leads the others to the opposite side. The aim is to run towards the other team, firing like mad at them while trying not to get hit yourself. Plus something about a flag, but you don't really care about that. You just want to get shooting.
At first you feel a bit stupid, ducking down behind strategically-placed logs and barrels, scurrying along bent over to stay covered. Jack is already throwing himself to the ground at the slightest excuse, with Mum fussing over him and telling him to be careful. You decide to take a path along the right-hand side of the field, while Mum and Jack bear left.
You hear footsteps in the leaves just behind you, right at the edge of the Field of Battle, and turn to see a man walking towards you. He makes no attempt to hide as you turn, but just goes on lumbering forwards. The whole creeping-like-a-ninja thing seems to have passed him by. He's wearing the same ill-fitting camouflage jumpsuit as the rest of you, but no mask, and he holds his red paintball gun out in front of himself. You wonder for a moment why he hasn't already shot you, but then you bat that thought away, already squeezing your trigger. It's not your fault he's got the reactions of a stoned sloth.
The first paintball hits him in the dead centre of his belly. But something must be wrong with the ball because it doesn't splatter properly. In fact, it doesn't splatter at all, but seems to sink into his body, like a real bullet. It's obviously an optical illusion. The paintball must have tucked itself into a crease in his jumpsuit. This is totally unfair: the safety briefing was clear that it doesn't count as a hit unless the ball actually bursts.
You shoot off another paintball. This one hits him slightly higher, in the chest, but, again, there's no splattering. As you take aim for a third shot, the thought does cross your mind to wonder who he is. One of the other families must have turned up after all, and joined in without watching the safety briefing.
This time your aim is a little off, and the paintball catches his right hand. It connects just above the wrist and, as you watch in horror, it passes right through his flesh, severing his hand and sending it flying backwards into the damp undergrowth.
You scream. You're not sure how many times. "Oh my God!" you shriek. "I'm so sorry."
You run towards the man, vague thoughts of tourniquets and staunching the bleeding in your mind.
But the look on his face hasn't changed. He's still just staring impassively, straight ahead. He must be going into shock. He keeps walking, slowly, towards you, apparently oblivious to the fact that one of his outstretched arms is now missing a hand.
"Let me help you," you say. He's now less than a metre away, and you hold out your arms to him, before flinching away. You just can't do it. You want to help him but... that arm. You can't let it touch you.
Instead, you finally do what you should have done straight away. "Help!" you yell, your voice high and shrill. "Amy! Simon! Help!"
You feel the wounded man touch your shoulder, the fingers of his good hand holding on to you, and brace yourself against the squeamishness. You're just going to have to help him. It's the least you can do.
You take a breath to compose yourself, but even as you're turning back, you know something isn't right. His one good hand is against the back of your neck now, his fingers digging in, so hard that you can't squirm away. He pulls you closer to him, turning your head as he does so. Your face is just inches from his now, his blank eyes staring into yours as you try to make sense of what the hell is going on. The whites of his eyes are a sickly yellow-green, covered in red veins, and his face is dotted with little sores and tiny bruises. You briefly wonder again why he isn't wearing his safety mask. And then he opens his mouth, showing his teeth – dirty, yellow, sharper than the teeth of any human have a right to be, and closing in on your neck.
You lift your arm and bring the gun down against the arm that grips you, so hard that you have trouble holding onto it. He doesn't let go. He doesn't even blink. It's as if he feels nothing. You scream, and scream again, as his face moves closer to yours, those yellow teeth like daggers, and those awful blank eyes now just inches from your own.
And then everything turns blue. The bloodshot eyes, that bruised-looking skin, and those yellow teeth are all splattered with blue paint. His grip loosens slightly, just enough for you to twist away and run, until about four steps later you crash into a camouflage-covered shape which turns out to be Mum. She's lowered her gun slightly after shooting the man, giving you time to get away. Now she raises it again.
You turn to look at your attacker, just in time to see Mum fire off a second paintball, right into his face. Another coat of the blue, and it's difficult to make out any features any more. He lifts his remaining hand, swiping away the paint, but as he does so it's as if he wipes away his face too. He flicks his hand, shaking off the paint, but it isn't just paint that falls to the ground. Paint isn't that thick, and it doesn't have lumps in it. His face is a blank - not expressionless, but actually blank, like a sheet of dirty cardboard. There's no mouth any more, no nose, no eyes, as if the flesh has melted away.
By now, Amy and Simon have reached you. Mum puts down her gun, pulling you and Jack close to her with both arms. You watch as Simon raises his gun and fires a shot at the man, and now there's a hole, right through his head. For a second you can see the leaves of the trees behind him, before the top of his head caves in to fill the hole. He stands there for a second, before slowly falling backwards into the leaves with a muffled thud.
"Right everyone," says Amy, lifting her mask. "Back to the War Games Centre, please. We'll have to cancel the session but I'll get you all a refund."
Mum picks up her gun, and the three of you follow Simon and Amy, trudging back across the field. You pull your masks up onto the tops of your heads – the game is well and truly over – but none of you speak. You can't find the words. [[All you can do is follow->A family affair]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Blast from the past''@@
Suddenly you're on your feet. "I'm sorry," you mutter, as you head for the door. "I can't do this."
And then you're running, out of the War Games Centre, the heavy door swinging closed behind you, and smack-bang into a young man with dark hair and incredibly pale skin, dressed in the same uniform as Amy. His badge says his name is Simon. He shrieks.
"Oh, sorry," you manage. It's obvious from his face, and the way he clasps one hand to his chest, that you scared the living daylights out of him.
"It's okay," he says eventually. "Are you here for paintball?"
"I was, but I've changed my mind."
"Okay, well, you need to go back to your lodge then. You can't hang around here. Health and safety." He scurries into the War Games Centre, holding open the door for Mum and Jack, on their way out. "You can't hang around the Field of Battle," he tells them. "Health and safety."
Mum nods, then puts a hand on your shoulder and steers you along the winding path that leads away from the Centre. Just around a corner is a bench, and you all sit down.
"What's going on?" Mum asks.
"Nothing. I just changed my mind."
"Changed your mind?" You can tell she's trying not to lose her temper but you can also tell she's not going to succeed.
"Yeah, I just don't fancy it."
"I didn't pay £49 per person for you to change your mind!"
"I'm sorry. You and Jack can still play."
You hear the door to the War Games Centre slam, and voices and footsteps as everyone else troops out.
"We've missed the bloody safety briefing now," Mum says.
"Aw, Mum!" Jack whines. "I really wanted to do paintballing."
"Sorry," you say again.
Mum rubs her forehead with her fingers, crinkling the skin, then looks at the floor. The three of you sit there in silence, all of you just staring at your feet, for a long time.
Eventually a crunch of footsteps makes you look up. A man, dressed in the same kind of ill-fitting camouflage jumpsuit that you're all rocking, is walking down the path towards you. He's holding a paintball gun, and for a moment you wonder if he intends to shoot you.
"We're not in the game," you say.
But he doesn't shoot. Instead he just keeps lumbering, closer and closer, until he's standing right in front of you. Then he stretches out one hand and touches the back of your neck. At first you think maybe your collar is tucked in, or he's picking a leaf off you or something, but then his fingers start to dig in, so hard that you can't squirm away.
"Hey, get off!" you shout.
"Let go of her, please," Mum says. She sounds like a teacher.
He crouches down and pulls you closer, turning your head as he does so. Your face is just inches from his now, his blank eyes staring into yours as you try to make sense of what the hell is going on. The whites of his eyes are a sickly yellow-green, covered in red veins, and his face is dotted with little sores and tiny bruises. Then he opens his mouth, showing his teeth – dirty, yellow, sharper than the teeth of any human have a right to be, and closing in on your neck.
You're thumping his chest, trying to push him away, while Mum pulls hard on his arm, but nothing you do makes any difference. It's as if he feels nothing. You try to back away, but you're trapped against the bench. You scream, and scream again, as his face moves closer to yours, those yellow teeth like daggers, and those awful blank, impassive eyes now just inches from your own.
And then everything turns blue. The bloodshot eyes, that bruised-looking skin, and those yellow teeth are all splattered with blue paint. His grip loosens slightly, just enough for you to twist away and run, until you collide with Mum and Jack about four steps from the bench.
You see Simon and Amy, in the trees behind the bench. As you run towards them, Amy steps forward, indicating that you're to take cover behind her. You watch as she raises her gun and fires off a second paintball, right into your attacker's face. Another coat of blue. He lifts his hand, swiping away the paint, but as he does so it's as if he wipes away his face too. He flicks his hand, shaking off the paint, but it isn't just paint that falls to the ground. Paint isn't that thick, and it doesn't have lumps in it. His face is a blank - not expressionless, but actually blank, like a sheet of dirty cardboard. There's no mouth any more, no nose, no eyes, as if the flesh has melted away.
Amy fires again, and now there's a hole, right through the man's head. For a second you can see the leaves of the trees behind him, before the top of his head caves in to fill the hole. He stands there for a second, before slowly falling backwards into the leaves with a muffled thud.
"Right everyone," says Amy. "Back into the War Games Centre, please. We'll have to cancel the session but I'll get you all a refund."
The three of you follow Amy and Simon, trudging back along the path. None of you says a word. You don't have any words. [[All you can do is follow->A family affair]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''A family affair''@@
It's Jack who eventually breaks the silence: "Mum, that was a zombie, wasn't it?"
"I'm not sure what was wrong with him," Mum replies. "He must have been mentally ill. There's no such thing as zombies. I told you not to spend so much time on that app."
You march on in silence, until you see Dan and his boys, sitting on the ground a few metres from the War Games Centre. They've pushed their safety masks up on top of their heads. There's something on the floor in front of them – it must be a big holdall full of food, because they're busy stuffing their faces. Greedy buggers – fancy not being able to go an hour without cracking open a picnic.
As you approach, the three of them jump to their feet and one of the boys points his gun towards your group.
"Hey! Game's over!" you shout.
But he doesn't take any notice.
The paintball explodes right in Amy's face, and in an instant all her features are hidden by red paint. Her hands shoot to her eyes and she bends double, as if trying to roll into a ball. The panicky gasping noise she makes is scarier than a scream. "My eyes!" she manages to get out. "I can't see."
Simon is at her side, bending over her, trying to see how badly she's hurt. You turn to look at the boy who shot her.
"What were you thinking?" you shout. "You've really hurt her!"
Dan II pushes his son aside and runs towards Amy. You think he's going to help, and you go on thinking that as he pushes Simon away from her, and as he bends his head towards her. You still think it right up until the moment his teeth plunge into her neck, and then it's impossible to tell where the red paint ends and the blood begins.
That's when the screaming really starts. You grab hold of Mum's overalls with both fists, as does Jack, and the three of you stand there, holding on tight as you scream and scream, staring as Dan II bites into Amy's neck, again and again. It's probably not very helpful, but it seems the thing to do.
Eventually Simon speaks. "OK, guys, let's go."
He pushes you and Jack in front of him, towards the War Games Centre.
"What about Amy?" Mum's asking.
"There's nothing we can do for her," he replies.
The three of you are running now, hand-in-hand with Mum in the middle, towards the open door of the Centre. You turn to glance at Simon, and see him raise his gun, letting off a paintball into the face of the boy who shot Amy. As one, the two boys sprint at him, knocking him off his feet, and then they're on top of him, their heads lowering.
As you run into the War Games Centre your brain finally decides to finish processing something you saw a moment earlier. You instantly wish it hadn't. You wish you'd never made the connection. Because you suddenly realise that what you saw on the ground a moment ago, that bundle you assumed was a holdall of food, was covered in camouflage fabric. And there was no sign of their giggly mother anywhere.
You close the heavy door behind you and turn the two locks that bolt it at the top and bottom.
"Mum, what do we do now?" Jack's voice cracks as he speaks, and you've never seen him so pale, not even when he broke his arm. Mum pulls him towards her and tries to put her arm round his shoulder, but he shakes it off. She keeps forgetting he's not a baby anymore.
Mum opens up the poppers on the front of her jumpsuit and wriggles her phone out of her jeans pocket. She frowns at it. "Still no signal." She shoves it back into her pocket.
She bites her lips together, thinking, then turns to you. "Well, what do you think? [[Go to the Pleasure Dome->No place like dome]] or [[wait here->Not going out]] for help to come?"
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''No place like dome''@@
You shrug. "Let's go to the Pleasure Dome. There'll be loads of people there." It hurts to speak, and your voice sounds hoarse. It turns out that hysterical screaming really isn't good for the vocal chords. You learn something new every day.
Mum unlocks the door and you creep out, slowly and silently. The coast is clear, so you half-run, half-walk back up the hill towards the Pleasure Dome. Halfway up, Jack stops and bends over, his hands on his knees, gasping for breath, then Mum stops too. You run back down to stand next to them, hopping from foot to foot with nervous energy.
"Come on! Come on!" you mutter.
Finally you set off again. You keep trying to slow down and walk alongside them, but impatience always gets the better of you and you find yourself edging ahead again. You're already practising conversations in your head, working out exactly how to convey to the reception staff in the Pleasure Dome what the hell you just saw. You need to tell someone, anyone – to get the words out of your head and into someone else's - but the road back to the Pleasure Dome is just as quiet and empty as it was on the way down.
Soon the Dome is in sight. It's set slightly back from the road, along its own little footpath, and the sunlight reflects off the big glass doors so that as you approach them, all three of you jogging now, all you can see is your own reflections. The doors open to let you through, and you trot inside.
It's packed with people, just like last night, and the constant movement and hum of a hundred conversations, as they bounce and echo around the domed roof, is a little overwhelming. On the far side of the foyer is the Hollywood Megabowl, and you can hear the crashing of falling pins and the excited shouts of triumph and disappointment. Closer to the door is a coffee shop, where people sit at tables sipping their drinks while small children run around, tripping over buggies and generally getting in the way. There's a baby crying somewhere.
You head for the reception desk. There's already a crowd of people there. You're going to have to do something even more daring and courageous than fighting and running for your life. You're going to have to jump the queue.
Just in front of the desk, a crowd has gathered around a young couple - a woman dressed in leggings and a sleek long-sleeved top, as if about to head off for a run, and a man with his arm round her shoulders, in shorts and T-shirt. As you approach, the man starts shouting at the two women behind the reception desk: "We want to know what you're going to do! My wife's been attacked by a pair of drug addicts!"
You see that the sleeve of the woman's tight-fitting top is ripped in several places, and beneath the rips her skin is bloodied and scratched.
"You need to look at the CCTV," the man goes on. "Right now, before they attack someone else."
The two women behind the desk confer for a moment. They're an oddly mismatched pair – one of them tiny and dainty-looking, with short, dark hair in a pixie cut, and the other much taller, with broad shoulders and masses of blonde curls. They both nod, as if agreeing on a plan, and the tall blonde one picks up the phone.
"If I hadn't had the tennis racquets with me," the sporty man is saying to an older man next to him, "I don't know what would have happened. They just wouldn't stop. One of them bit my arm so hard he drew blood."
The other receptionist lifts up a flap at one end of the desk so that the couple who've been attacked can come round into the area behind.
"We were attacked too!" you shout. "At the War Games Centre."
But nobody reacts. You don't think they heard you over the general buzz of noise.
The receptionist ushers the couple through a door, into what you presume is a staff room.
"We were attacked too," you shout, louder this time.
Now the woman in front of you turns round, and, seeing that you're being ignored, yells, "Oi! Hello-oo! These people were attacked too!"
Everyone turns to stare at you.
"What happened?" the shouty woman asks.
She seems like the sort of person for whom yelling semi-aggressively across a shopping mall is an everyday occurrence, so you're relieved when Mum answers for you. "We were attacked at the War Games Centre. They-" She takes three steps forward, gently pushing her way through the crowd. You and Jack follow close behind. She waits until she's standing right in front of the receptionists before continuing, in a much quieter voice. "At least three people are dead."
It isn't quiet enough.
"Dead!" the shouty woman screams, at top-of-her-voice soap-opera volume. That's the injured lady's cue to scream, and then the whole world erupts into ear-splitting noises: screams, gruff shouts and then shrieks of pain as the pushing and shoving starts. You're pushed forwards, towards the reception desk, then backwards, and you step on Jack's foot. The two women behind the desk both hold out their hands, appealing for calm, but the noise doesn't die down.
"What are you going to do about it?" the shouty woman is yelling, almost directly down your ear. "People are dead, and you're just standing there, not telling us anything."
"I don't-" you manage to lip-read, as the blonde women behind the desk begins to speak, then clearly realises there's no point. She looks across at the other woman for help.
She must be the supervisor, because she clearly decides she needs to take control. She sits on the reception desk, then swings her legs around and clambers to her feet. She claps her hands three times and, miraculously, the screaming and shouting stops, although you can still hear a baby crying.
"Thank you," she says eventually. "Now, if you'll just give us a minute, we'll get to the bottom of what's been going on. Now, if I can just -"
But at that moment the shouty woman's patience runs out. "We want to know now!" she yells. "What about my little grandson? What if he's next? He's only two. I want to know what you're going to-"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, will you shut up?"
You all turn to see who dared to interrupt the woman. Right at the back of the crowd stands a tall, white-haired man, impeccably dressed in a striped blue shirt and jeans that look as like they've been ironed. "Shut up and let the lady do her job," he continues.
"Don't you tell me to shut up!" the shouty woman yells back, her face turning scarlet with rage. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?"
"Just be quiet," the man repeats.
When the screaming starts, at first you think it's the shouty woman. It makes you jump a bit, but that's all. When Mum pushes your shoulder and says, almost shouting, "Out! Out! Out!" you think it's an over-reaction. Yes, the woman is very shouty, and yes, probably a bit fighty too, but she isn't going to hurt you. You turn to say something to Mum – ask her why the rush or something – and you'll never forget the look of terror on her face. "Move!" she shouts.
In that instant you suddenly understand what's happening. Out of the corner of your eye you see the struggle taking place behind the reception desk. The tennis-playing man has taken hold of the blonde receptionist by the shoulders. He buries his head in her torso, and blood covers his face and spreads across her turquoise top. In the same instant, you see that his girlfriend, previously so weak and frightened-looking, has climbed up onto the reception desk, next to the dark-haired receptionist. She shoves the tiny woman to the ground, then hops down on top of her.
You've seen more than enough. Now you're running, other people crashing and pushing into you at every step, in a mad scramble for the doors. You can't keep track of Mum and Jack. All you can do is get yourself to those automatic doors as quickly as possible.
Outside, the crowd spreads out in all directions. You move a little way from the doors, away from the shoving, and look round for Mum and Jack. They're right behind you, Mum clinging onto Jack with both hands on his shoulders.
"Where do we go?" you ask Mum. It comes out almost as a scream. "Where do we go?"
She shakes her head. She takes hold of your hand and the three of you run, hand-in-hand, up the footpath, away from the Pleasure Dome. All you know is that you need to get away. As you reach the end of the footpath and join the main road, you turn away from most of the crowd, and find yourselves heading in the direction of the lake. "We need a plan," you say.
So what's it to be? [[Back to the lodge->Down by the water]] or [[head for the carpark->Hit the road]] and get out of here?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Not going out''@@
All of a sudden, your legs feel terribly weak, and you sink down onto the wooden bench. "Let's stay here," you say. "I don't feel like I could run anyway."
But a moment later you're jumping to your feet again as there's a thump on the door.
"Who is it?" Mum shouts.
There's no reply, just another thump, this one hard enough to shake the door on its hinges.
"Who's there?" Mum asks.
You look around, but the windowless hut has no way of seeing who - or what - is outside.
There's a third bang on the door, followed by a few seconds of scraping noises, then silence.
You look at each other. That tired, wobbly feeling has vanished as quickly as it came. "I don't think we can stay here," you say.
Mum nods. "What do you reckon, then? [[Head to the Pleasure Dome->No place like dome]] and raise the alarm? Or shall we just [[run down to the carpark->Hit the road]] and get out of here?"
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Down by the water''@@
You run on a little further. Eventually Mum sighs deeply, as if pulling herself together. "We'll be safe in the lodge," she says. "There's an information channel on the telly. We'll go back and put that on – find out what to do."
You nod. Jack doesn't say anything. He's breathing hard now – he isn't as fit as you and Mum.
"Back to the lodge then," Mum says firmly, trying to reassure herself as much as you. She looks all around. "I think we can stop running now."
She's right. The crowd has thinned out completely. You can see another group of people ahead of you, right in the distance, but other than them the road is empty. In any case, it's pretty obvious Jack can't run much further. You slow to a fast walk.
Finally the lake is in sight. By its side is the Magical Treetop Adventure Trail, a series of rope bridges and clambering nets set a good 10 metres up in the trees. You're booked in to do it later in the week. It looks nerve-wracking, until you realise that you're securely strapped into a harness and couldn't fall if you tried. You've been particularly looking forward to the end of the trail – a massive zipwire right across to the other side of the lake.
You're relieved to see that, here at the lake, life seems to be going on as normal. There's nobody at ground level but, up in the trees, you can see the guests making their way around the trail, climbing up nets and swinging on ropes like Tarzan – if Tarzan wore a helmet and a safety harness.
You've ended up ahead of the others again. You're a fast walker, especially when stressed, and it's fair to say that you're more than a little stressed right at the moment. You stop for a moment to let them catch up, watching as a young woman steps carefully over a series of wooden circles, like stepping stones, attached with ropes so they swing in a feels-scary-but-is-actually-perfectly-safe way. She reaches the final one and steps out onto a fixed platform, where a staff member is waiting to help her with the next part of the course. She seems to stumble slightly, and he catches her around the waist. He holds onto her for a little longer than seems strictly necessary, and you think what an excellent career choice this is for a man with wandering hands. When he still hasn't let go after a good five seconds you see her try to wriggle free. Still he holds on tightly, and you watch in shock and horror as the filthy pervert bends to kiss her neck. And then you realise – this isn't a kiss but a bite.
His teeth tear at her flesh, and you see the blood spurt out, splattering his face. You open your mouth to scream, but then feel a hand on your arm. It's Mum. She points to Jack, a step behind, gazing off across the lake, completely oblivious to what's going on above your heads. You nod to show that you understand.
Perhaps you make a sound, or perhaps the man notices your movement, but he looks down and you make eye contact for a second. There's no expression at all on his face. Then he turns his attention back to his victim. You see her knees give way and she slumps down onto the platform. He bends over her, lowering his head again. You want to look away but you can't. This time his teeth gnash at her stomach, and he turns his head to the side to rip away her clothes before sinking his teeth into her flesh.
You need to get out of Paradise Grove. Right now. Mum turns around and puts her arm out, gently turning Jack around too.
"Change of plan," she says brightly. "We're leaving."
As you turn back, you slightly unfocus your eyes and look up again, wanting to check that the man hasn't moved from the platform but not wanting to see any of the details of what he's doing there. He's still kneeling over the lifeless lump. You don't think Jack notices the wet thwack as something drops down from the platform and hits the path behind you, but [[you know Mum does->Hit the road]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Hit the road''@@
“Back to the carpark," Mum says, and you nod vigorously.
She's doing a reasonable job of keeping her voice calm, but it isn't good enough, and you can see the fear in Jack's face.
"What about all our stuff?" he asks.
"We'll get it later," Mum says, with not-at-all-convincing casualness.
"But I've left the tablet in the lodge."
"We'll get it later. Don't worry."
"But I need to log on to Zombie Island every day to collect gems. Otherwise I'll lose my streak."
"I don't want to hear any more about Zombie bloody Island!" Mum snaps. It comes out in that awful sinister whisper bitchy parents use when they want to say something mean to their kids in public without anyone hearing. "Let's go."
"Jack, just leave it," you say. "Come on."
The carpark is screened from the road by a row of trees and dense brambles. Mum's in front now, and you see the key fob glint in her hand, ready to go. You can already hear a cacophony of car alarms and revving engines, and you realise that many of the other holidaymakers are heading for the exit, just like you. You hear a crunch, and smashing glass, then a scream. Presumably everyone is forgetting how to drive in their panic.
But it's all going to be OK. You'll get out of Paradise Grove, give statements to the police, watch the reports on the news, have a hell of a story to tell in school and then get on with your lives. It'll turn out that a load of mental patients or drug addicts somehow got into the complex and caused mayhem. A politician will resign, or be fired, and there'll be an inquiry. Whatever.
And then you turn the corner, round the hedge, into the carpark, and what you see there has [[no rational explanation->Road to hell]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Road to hell''@@
The carpark is still almost full, but there's a long queue of cars waiting to leave the site. In places, the route out is blocked by cars abandoned at crazy angles, many of them with smashed windows. Two have clearly crashed, head-on, and they sit there, empty, their bonnets crumpled. Around, between and even on top of the cars stagger people – no, they aren't people – stagger zombies, blood staining their clothes and faces, and sometimes even visibly dripping from their hair. Sometimes it isn't just drops of blood that fall from them. You watch as a man in jeans and a checked shirt stumbles across the carpark, a piece of flesh falling from his cheek and splattering on the tarmac like an over-ripe tomato as he walks. He doesn't seem to notice. You see zombie cleaning ladies, their smart white T-shirts smeared with vile red and brown streaks, zombies in expensive-looking yoga gear, and zombies dressed in the distinctive turquoise sweatshirts of the Paradise Grove staff.
You watch the scene unfold for a moment – long enough to watch what was once an outdoor instructor, still wearing his helmet, hop up onto the roof of a car and bring what looks like a golf club down on the sunroof. The glass smashes, and he drops through the hole. You look away.
One step in front of you, Mum is stood frozen, staring. Jack is a couple of steps behind, and now you put your arms out to your sides and turn round to block his view, half-pushing him back around the corner to the main path. "Keep going straight," you say. "Come on, this way. Mum, come on."
You grab at the back of her jumpsuit and pull. She shakes her head, as if shaking out the horror, and together you duck back onto the footpath which skirts the edge of the carpark. The greenery shields you from the sights beyond, but you can still hear the sounds. As you jog along at a torturously slow pace so as not to leave Jack behind, you try not to think about what each smashed window, each scraping of metal, might mean.
Your mind is racing. You think back to your morning run – which way now? You're parked right on the far side of the carpark, fairly close to the exit – you remember Jack whining about the long walk back to the Pleasure Dome. If you follow this path a little further, you're pretty sure you'll be able to pick your way through the forest, then nip out right in front of the car and drive straight out, bypassing the hell you've just seen.
"Stop a minute," Mum says. "I need to think. Where are we going?"
You tell her your plan, and she nods. You're already at the end of the footpath, so now you lead the way into the forest. As soon as you leave the tarmac, Jack slows down even more. You want to grab his hands and tell him to hurry – drag him along if necessary - but you know that falling now would be disastrous so you keep your mouth shut and lead the way, while Mum holds his hand.
When you think you've travelled far enough, you run ahead a little and peek out through the trees. Bingo – there's your car, only a few metres away. You creep closer. No zombies in sight – they're all still occupied over at the other side of the carpark. It doesn't look like anyone else has made it past them.
Now Mum's hand is on your shoulder again, pulling you back to the safety of the trees.
"It's safe," you tell her, but she wants to see for herself, so you wait with Jack while she peers out.
"OK," she says as she returns. "It's safe, but that doesn't mean we can hang about. We'll go slowly to the edge of the forest, then I'll unlock the car and we'll all run and get in as fast as we can. Try and get your seatbelts on."
Jack's eyes widen, as if he's only now realising how serious the situation is. It's one thing watching people die horribly right before your eyes, but when your Mum suggests she might possibly drive off before you've got your seatbelt on, that's when you know you're really in the shit. "What if you crash?" he asks, aghast.
"I won't crash."
Mum gives your hands a quick squeeze and you're off, towards the car, the alarm chirping and the lights flashing to show that it's unlocked.
Mum's already flinging the driver's door open and jumping in. You throw yourself into the back and Jack lands half on top of you. "Move up!" he screams.
"What are you doing?" you yell. "Why didn't you go round the other side?"
"Just get in and shut the door!" Mum shouts, as the engine starts. You shuffle out from under Jack's bum, then lean across him to slam the door.
"Drive!" you shout, "Drive!"
Mum slams the car into gear and drives off. You've never seen her drive so fast, but as far as you're concerned it's still just too bloody slow, because as you leant over to slam that door, you saw something: a flash of dark clothing and swift movement that Jack hasn't seen yet but, judging by the squealing of the tyres, Mum certainly has.
There's a thump on the rear window, and you and Jack swivel in your seats. Jack screams. "It's Dan!"
"It's... not... Dan," Mum says, the words staccato as she spits them out whilst concentrating on driving.
"It's not him," you explain. "It's the dad from the paintball. He just looks like Dan."
Except he doesn't look anywhere near as much like Dan as he did before. Dan's skin isn't that pale, and it doesn't have those weird purple blotches all over it, like a net made of blood. And Dan's teeth aren't yellow. In fact, they're perfectly white – he used to whiten them with a special kit. He spent hours sitting in front of the telly with his mouth full of plastic trays, slobbering down his chin every time he tried to speak. More to the point, Dan doesn't have a gaping wound on the side of his neck.
There's one more thump on the boot, then Mum turns the final corner, out of the carpark and onto the exit road. You watch as Dan II runs after the car for a couple of steps, before giving up and scurrying back towards the carpark.
"Why was he chasing us?" Jack asks.
Mum doesn't answer, so you do. "Whatever was wrong with those people, he's got it too. They've infected him or something."
Then you're silent. There isn't any more to say.
A moment later, you're approaching the barriers and the little huts where you checked in yesterday. It doesn't look good.
You expected the barrier to be down, but you've seen enough cop shows to know that you could drive through it if you needed to. What you didn't expect was that another family would be stupid enough to actually stop.
They're already stationary as you pull up behind them, and you watch as they wait patiently in their shiny silver estate car for the security guard.
You wind down the window. "Don't stop!" you yell. "Just drive through the barrier!"
But apparently being under attack from zombies is no excuse to forget your manners.
The security guard stands up - slowly, ever so slowly - and wanders out from his little hut. He taps on their driver's window and they politely wind it down to explain what seems to be the problem. By now you're no longer capable of sensible speech - it's basically just swearing. Mum doesn't even bother to berate you. And it's probably your rage that stops you realising that you've seen that lazy, shambling gait somewhere before.
It's only as the zombie security guard leans forward into the open window, and then the screams ring out, that you make the connection.
"Mum! Drive!" you scream.
Mum swings the car around, almost in a full U-turn.
"Not back there!" you scream. "Drive through the barrier!"
There isn't enough space to squeeze past the silver car, but on the other side of the hut is the other barrier, for people coming onto the site. It's this one that Mum turns towards. But as she lines you up to ram the barrier, you see that another car is stopped on the other side, blocking your way. You can't see anyone inside. You'd like to think that the owners saw what was happening and made a run for it. You'd really like to think that. In any case, there's no way you can get past it.
A movement to the side of the car catches your eye, and you twist in your seat to see the security guard – or the thing that was once the security guard – has turned away from the other car and is walking towards you. He wipes his arm across his face, the blood that covers his chin smearing up the khaki sleeve of his uniform.
"Drive! Drive!" you scream again, but Mum's already seen him and is wrenching the car into reverse, then shooting backwards. There's a thud as she hits the security guard, then another as he hits the tarmac. Mum moves forwards again, swinging you around, so that you're pointing back towards the carpark, and you lean forward to look in the rearview mirror. You don't need to worry about the security guard any more – he's smeared unevenly across the tarmac. It reminds you of the way Jack puts jam on toast.
Mum drives slowly back up the road, towards the carpark. But you certainly can't go back there.
You glance over towards the trees at the side of the road. "Mum, pull over, as close to the trees as you can."
Mum shakes her head and sighs but does as you ask, muttering "Shit! Shit! Shit!" under her breath the whole time. You turn round in your seat, looking all around the car. There's nobody behind you; nobody in the trees to either side. As you make eye contact with Jack, you notice for the first time how huge his eyes are with fear. You put your hand on his knee and look all around one more time. Nothing.
"There's nobody watching," you say. "We can get out and hide in the trees."
"Then what?" Mum asks softly.
"Back to the lodge? Lock ourselves in?"
Mum nods, thinking it over. "When I say, 'Go'," she says eventually, sounding more sure of herself now, "We're all going to get out of the car, quickly and quietly, and run into the trees together."
"But Mum!" Jack looks even more terrified.
"Don't worry," you say, trying to sound as confident as Mum. "There's nobody here – look." He swivels in his seat, as you just did, confirming the coast is clear.
"Just head for the trees," Mum says. "It's the safest place. Especially in this camo gear." She takes a deep breath. "Ready?" You both nod. "Let's go."
And then your feet are on the tarmac. Mum's in front, pulling Jack along by the hand at a pretty impressive pace. A few seconds later you're all crouching behind a mound of entwined brambles and ivy, breathing hard. Mum presses the key fob to lock the car.
You wait until the thumping of your heart slows and quietens, then straighten up. You're a few metres back from the carpark – far enough away to be hidden, so long as you don't crash through the trees like a herd of elephants. As that thought crosses your mind, you think back to the sad old elephant you saw at the safari park. Was that really just yesterday? The reminder that there's a world beyond Paradise Grove is reassuring. Surely it's only a matter of time before help's on its way.
Mum stands up too. "Let's get moving then," she says, and you begin to creep through the wood. The damp ground muffles your footsteps, and soon you're out of the overgrown bit, onto a proper path, and making steady progress. You instinctively join hands, with Mum in the middle. If it wasn't for the expressions on your faces, you'd look like an advert for Paradise Grove. //Here's your quality family time, right here.// You glance over at Mum but decide she probably wouldn't see the funny side.
You can see movement in the carpark now, just about visible through the trees. Mum stops near to a large bank of brambles. "Wait here for a minute," she says. "Duck down, just in case."
Jack obeys, but you can't resist following her, wanting to see for yourself.
You creep a little closer to the edge of the forest, carefully picking your way between the brambles. You can see a group of four security guards in the middle of the carpark, their backs to you as they stand, watching something. Then a faster movement catches your eye, and you turn to see a little green buggy. It's the kind of thing park rangers sometimes get around on, except this one has solid windows instead of being open at the sides. Inside you can see a driver in the familiar turquoise sweatshirt. Seated next to him is a man in a grey suit – the site manager again. He looks even angrier than he did in the Pleasure Dome last night.
They drive slowly on, towards the security guards, and the urge to shout a warning becomes almost overwhelming. You actually clamp your hand over your mouth, like people do in cartoons, to stop yourself crying out and revealing your location. The buggy deviates a little from its straight path to go around the zombie guards, but as you watch they all take a step towards it. One of them raises his hand, as if to bang on the window of the buggy, but then just puts it down again. The buggy continues on its way, and the guards let it pass, heading towards the exit.
"Stay there!" you tell the others, and then you're off, ignoring Mum's hissed instruction to wait, running along the soft path so fast your legs seem to spin like a Roadrunner cartoon; faster than any sprint finish, faster than any interval training, so fast that even one stray tree root would surely send you flying, because you couldn't possibly stop. When you're alongside the buggy, you dive though the bushes, pulling your leg free as it catches on the brambles, waving your arms, willing him to see you. You daren't risk shouting.
The manager looks over at you. "Help me!" you say, as loud as you dare, making sure to show him that you aren't one of Them. Your eyes lock on his. But you see no reaction there. His lips move, but you can't tell what he's saying to the driver. The buggy continues on its way.
You could have chased it, but you just stand there watching it go, panting hard and feeling the burning of the lactic acid in your thighs. He definitely saw you.
Suddenly aware of how exposed you are, you jog back into the trees, then slowly make your way back along the path. Perhaps he's going to get help. Yes, that has to be it.
You're so busy preparing what you're going to say to Mum and Jack – and they're so well-hidden among the undergrowth – that you walk straight past them and Mum has to hiss your name several times before you turn round. You crouch down with them again.
"It was the manager," you say. "I think he's gone to get help."
Mum raises one eyebrow at you.
"Anyway," you say, "Where to now? I think the Dome's a bad idea." Mum nods. "[[Back to the lodge->Heading for home]]?"
Mum looks worried. "It's such a long way. We could always go back to the [[War Games Centre->Hide and shriek]] and lock ourselves in. There was a drinks machine in there, and there might be a landline."
There's silence for a moment as you all consider the options. Which will you choose?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Hide and shriek''@@
"You're right - the lodge is too far," you say. "Let's go back to the War Games Centre." Mum nods.
So on you go, slowly, carefully and as silently as three people have ever moved. You're torn between wanting to peer through the trees and see what's happening in the carpark and thinking perhaps it's better not to know.
It's certainly quieter now. Occasionally a car alarm starts up again, but the screaming's stopped. Perhaps that's a bad thing, but it feels like a relief.
Soon you're back at the War Games Centre. You push the door closed behind you, then flick the bolts at its top and bottom. It's a thick, heavy door. It looks pretty sturdy.
By the time you turn back, Mum's already halfway through the door marked "Staff Only".
The only other door is to the single cubicle toilet, where the obscured glass window's a couple of inches ajar. You shut it, just in case. Mum's already back out of the staff area. "There's a fire escape, but it's fine – you can't open it from the outside."
"Right."
Mum reaches under the reception desk and pulls out a phone, putting it to her ear. "No dial tone," she says.
"Can I take this jumpsuit off now?" Jack asks, sitting down on a bench and holding up his feet to show you. "It's all muddy at the bottom."
"Leave it on for now," Mum says. "We might need the camouflage."
Jack starts to cry. "But it's all wet and it's making my ankles feel horrible. My feet are getting cold."
You see Mum's shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath, then slowly lets it out again. She sits down next to Jack and puts her arm around him.
"It's OK, sweetheart," she says. "We're safe now. Nobody can get in here. We'll just relax and wait for help to come. I know! Let's have a hot chocolate from the machine."
She jumps up and starts rummaging inside her overalls, trying to get at her jeans pocket, somewhere underneath. "Have you got any change?" she asks you.
You shake your head. "I left my money back at the lodge."
But now Jack starts sobbing harder. "I don't want a hot chocolate. I want to take this horrible thing off. It's all wet and it's got – stuff – on it."
You notice for the first time that the front of his jumpsuit is covered in red splatters, masked by the camouflage pattern. There's an awful lot of them. They must have come from the man who attacked you earlier. You look down at yourself for the first time and see a matching red pattern.
"Yes, take them off," Mum says quietly.
You all take your overalls off, remembering to take off your trainers this time. You chuck the dirty clothes into a large hamper, filled almost to the top with muddy camouflage gear.
By now, Mum's found her way to her pocket and pulled out a handful of change. "Right – who wants a hot chocolate?"
"Yes, please," you reply, suddenly aware again of your raw throat, and how good it would feel to soothe it with a hot drink. You watch as she feeds the coins into the slot, then stands back, frowning, reading the instructions.
"Shall I do it?" you ask impatiently, stepping forwards.
But then a noise behind you stops you in your tracks. It's a low growl, like someone's stomach rumbling, and it seems to be coming from the laundry hamper. As you watch, the dirty overalls start to shift and wriggle around, and the growling comes again, louder this time.
"Out! Out! Out!" you scream.
You're first to the door, reaching up to unlock the top bolt, then stooping to the bottom one, almost bumping heads with Mum. Then Mum's pushing you out of the door in front of her, screaming at you to, "Run, run run!"
You look over your shoulder as the door closes itself behind you, in time to see the zombie grab hold of the rim of the hamper and bunny-hop out. This one's female, and that scraped-back blonde hair and bright pink lipstick are unmistakable, even if half of her face is covered with red paint and her neck and torso are a mess of paint and blood. Poor Amy. But there's no time for sympathy.
You head uphill, out of the War Games Centre, and already you and Mum are ahead of Jack, holding his hands and pulling him along with you. You can't stop looking over your shoulder, at Amy following you, just [[a few metres behind->Chased by Amy]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Chased by Amy''@@
"This way," Mum shouts, guiding you and Jack down a track to the right, lined with piles of old tyres. You're confused for a moment, but soon understand her idea as you see a row of four quad bikes parked just up ahead. You can see the key in the ignition of the first one. "Jack, you come with me," Mum says. She turns to you. "Can you manage on your own?"
"Of course."
A moment later you're sitting on the quads, with Jack holding on to Mum's waist. A moment after that, you're realising you have no idea how to drive the thing. You turn the key. Nothing happens. //Think! Think!// You press the big red button right in front of you and the engine comes to life. You try squeezing the lever on the right handlebar, and the quad begins to move forward.
Mum raises one hand to indicate that you're to go in front, and you're off, following the path between the tyres in a smooth wide loop, then a series of tighter bends. And it's then that you realise you've made a terrible mistake: this isn't a road; it's a loop. And now you're headed back towards the start.
But you see with relief that Amy doesn't seem to have followed you. The two remaining quads are still sitting there, and there's no sign of her. Has she really given up so easily?
You pass the spare bikes, almost at the exit – and there she is, jogging towards you. And it's then you realise where she went, as you see what she's carrying: something so absurd that, despite it all, you can't help but snort a laugh. In her filthy hands, she holds a crash helmet. As she jogs towards the quads she shoves it over her head, squashing her ponytail, then carefully fastens the strap over her chin. All that health and safety training is so deeply embedded that she hasn't forgotten it, even in death and zombiehood.
But your laugh dies as you realise what this means: in a moment she'll be chasing you.
You raise your left hand to indicate to Mum that you're about to turn off onto the main road, leading to the Pleasure Dome, and then you're off, daring to go a little faster now on the smooth tarmac. When you look over your shoulder, Mum's right behind you. "How close is she?" you shout.
"Too close," is the answer. You squeeze harder on the throttle, speeding up. This would actually be fun, if it wasn't for the imminent risk of horrifying murder.
In the distance you can see someone coming towards you, along the long, straight road: a couple, on bikes, one of them pulling along a child in a little covered trailer. "Turn around!" you scream. "It's not safe!" But they just keep coming. "Go back!" you yell, daring for a second to take one hand off the handlebars and wave at them. But still they just keep heading steadily towards you.
It's only when the distance between you is down to a couple of metres that you see why they aren't listening. The man can't listen to anything anymore, given that most of the back of his head is missing, including one ear. The woman has no visible injuries, but she has that same glazed look in her eyes, staring ever-forwards, and the skin on her face has that bruised, mottled look that's becoming familiar to you.
You swerve, giving them as wide a berth as you're able. Once you're past, you glance over your shoulder to see Mum doing the same manoeuvre, then focus all your attention back onto the road in front of you. A second later, an almighty crash tempts you to turn round again.
Amy's quad is balanced on its side in the ditch at the edge of the road, rocking from side to side slightly, as if swaying in the breeze. The two bicycles, and their riders, are a few metres away, half-in and half-out of the ditch on the other side of the road, but you can't see the trailer at all. You can hear the quad engine revving, as if Amy hasn't understood that the wheels are no longer in contact with the ground, and you can hear a loud growling noise which you interpret as meaning that Cycling Dad isn't pleased with her. It's pretty clear she isn't going to be following you.
You allow your shoulders to relax a little, and wriggle your cramping fingers as you follow the deserted road around the lake and back to the lodge.
One of the resort's maintenance vehicles has been parked – abandoned might be a more appropriate word – right in the middle of the road, almost directly outside your lodge. You don't want to think about what happened to the driver.
You lead the way, driving your quad right up the paved path to the lodge's front door, then turning off the engine and hopping down. Mum and Jack are right behind you, Mum with the lodge key already in her hand. For now, you're safe.
And then you hear the sound, that sound that ruins every birthday tea, every family movie, every conversation. For a moment you react instinctively – your shoulders tensing up and your jaw clenching in irritation. Then you realise what it is, and what it means. It's Mum's phone. You never thought you would be so delighted to hear it.
"Hello?" she answers. There's silence for a second. You hold your breath, then slowly let it go. Help will be on its way any moment now. Any second, Mum will tell them what's going on, and they'll send help. Your ordeal is nearly over.
"Alright, James. Yep, you do that," she says, nodding. "Now listen - I need you to do something for me. What's that? James? You're breaking up."
She lowers the phone from her ear and frowns at it. "Lost the signal."
"You didn't tell him!" You take a deep breath and force yourself to speak slowly and clearly. "Ring. 999. Now."
Mum looks at the phone, then holds it up and waves it around a little. "Signal's gone again. Sorry, love."
She unlocks the door and [[you tramp inside->Wheel life]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Wheel life''@@
It's a good job you're speechless with shock, as otherwise it's just possible you might have said something that just might not have been entirely helpful to your predicament.
<<if visited("Hide and shriek")>>
Instead, you shut the door behind you and take off your trainers.
<<else>>
Instead, you shut the door behind you and take off your trainers, then the paintball overalls. You're disgusted to notice the many red blotches amongst the shades of green. Mum and Jack do the same.
<<endif>>
Soon Jack is shouting, "Hey! Come and look at this!"
He's standing by the big French window, pointing at another group of Segway riders, gliding calmly along the path towards your lodge. "Do you think we should warn them?" he asks.
You watch as they come nearer, in evenly-spaced single file. "How have they not noticed what's going on?"
You turn the key to unlock the patio door, but then Mum's hand is on yours. "Hang on," she says.
"But they're in danger!"
Mum shakes her head and points at the parade of Segways. As the leader draws closer, you notice for the first time the red stain on the front of his sweatshirt.
You take your hand away from the lock, and the three of you stand in a row, watching, as the zombies Segway their way past. There are four of them altogether – the leader, followed by a woman and two men. They sweep past, heading for the turn, but when the leader reaches it he just keeps on going, straight ahead, his little band of followers behind him. A moment later, he slams into the chainlink fence with a clang, his followers smacking into him one by one like cartoon soldiers. Eventually they untangle themselves, and the leader gets back onto his Segway, only to smash into the fence a second time, followed, for a second time, by each of his pupils. As you watch, they repeat the pantomime a third time. By now, Jack's giggling, and that sets you off too. As the fence clangs out for a fourth time, you can't help thinking that your enemies here might be strong, and hungry, and determined, but you could certainly beat them in an IQ test.
"Pity it's not an electric fence," you say. Then an idea strikes you that's so brilliant you actually gasp out loud. "We can make it an electric fence!" You turn to Mum. "Can we make it an electric fence?"
She frowns for a moment. "I don't see how."
"Can we wire a car battery to it or something?"
"12 volts?"
You shrug. "Er, yeah? Is that OK?"
She shakes her head, giving you a look that you interpret as meaning something like, "What the hell are they teaching you in school these days?" Mum grew up on a farm, so she has all these bits of random practical knowledge, and she can never understand why you're no more able to whittle a spoon or start a fire than she is to set up an Instagram account.
She sighs. "No. It's not enough."
"But surely it'd do something? Hurt them a bit?"
She shrugs. "Might tickle them."
The Segway riders clatter into the fence six times before the leader finally heads off back in the direction they came, and you're not at all convinced it's deliberate even then – you think he just got turned around somehow in the confusion. You watch as his followers drag and wrestle their Segways into a U-turn and then glide steadily off again.
The final rider is disappearing round a bend in the path when you hear the thud that you recognise as your neighbours' door closing. You run to the front window to see the four men from last night, strolling towards the road.
"They won't know!" you exclaim. Will you [[warn them->Warning after the night before]] or [[stay hidden->Silence is golden]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Heading for home''@@
"We can't go back to the War Games Centre," you say, finally. "It isn't safe. There's no choice: we have to head for the lodge."
Mum nods. "I was thinking the same thing."
So you set off at a slow jog, as carefully and as silently as three people have ever moved. You're torn between wanting to peer through the trees and see what's happening in the carpark and thinking perhaps it's better not to know.
It's certainly quieter now. Occasionally a car alarm starts up again, but the screaming's stopped. Perhaps that's a bad thing, but it feels like a relief.
Soon the War Games Centre is in sight again, and you can't resist glancing over at it. The door is open, and there's a figure standing on the threshold, as if waiting to greet the next bunch of adventurers. They're wearing the standard-issue waterproof trousers and sweatshirt, but only the arms of the sweatshirt are turquoise; the rest of it's covered in dark stains. That scraped-back blonde hair and bright pink lipstick are unmistakable, even if half of her face is covered with red paint and her neck and torso are a mess of paint and blood. Poor Amy. But there's no time for sympathy.
You and Mum exchange a glance as you head uphill, past the War Games Centre, holding Jack's hands and pulling him along with you. He doesn't seem to have noticed Amy. You can't resist glancing over your shoulder, and your worst fears are confirmed. She's following you, just a few metres behind, and [[the gap's closing fast->Chased by Amy]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Warning after the night before''@@
You and Mum and begin banging on the window. It takes a good few knocks, but eventually the men turn their puzzled faces towards you.
"Don't go out!" Mum shouts through the glass. "It's not safe."
They all just stare at you. Eventually one of them comes closer to the window, lowering the hood on his sweatshirt to hear you better. Mum struggles with the window lock and manages to open it a few inches.
"Don't go out!" she says again. "It's not safe."
The man shrugs. "Need a fry-up," he says. "No bacon."
And then he turns on his heel, almost tripping over a tree root in the process.
"He's still drunk," Mum says, and runs to the door. She opens it and shouts after them. "Seriously! It's not safe. You need to stay in the lodge! There's... there's..." her shouts tail off as she struggles to put into words what's happening out there. One of the men reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a can of lager, taking a big glug from it as he stares. This seems to be the cue for his friends to do the same, and then they all turn and set off down the road in the direction of the Pleasure Dome.
"It's not safe!" Mum yells again.
Then Jack pushes past her to the window. "There's zombies out there!" he yells.
The men turn and laugh now, waving at Jack, before continuing on their way.
The three of you stand in the doorway, watching them for a moment, before Mum closes the window.
"We can't just let them go!" you say.
Mum shrugged. "[[We tried->Breaking news]]."
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Warning after the night before''@@
You peer out of the window at them.
"I can't see any blood or anything," Mum says, "But we can't be sure. We can't make a sound. It's too risky."
It feels so wrong to let them go out there, but you have to agree. You're safe in the lodge - for now. It would be stupid to draw attention to yourselves.
But then Jack pushes past both of you and bangs on the window. "There's zombies out there!" he yells.
The men turn and laugh, waving at Jack, before [[continuing on their way->Breaking news]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Breaking news''@@
You and Mum stand by the window for a moment, watching your neighbours swagger off. Then you both jump as a man's voice fills the room.
"Sorry," Jack says. He's figured out how to turn on the TV, and the volume is turned up high. He quickly turns it down. It's on the news channel, and you all sit on the sofa and watch for a few minutes as they cover the main headlines: protests about a foreign politician visiting Downing Street, a junior minister in trouble for saying something racist on Twitter, and then the football results, but nothing about Paradise Grove. Dozens of people must be dead by now – maybe hundreds. Surely the outside world must have heard something about what was happening? But you don't merit a mention.
Mum picks up the remote control and cycles through the channels until she comes to the Paradise Grove information channel. At the top of the screen, below the Paradise Grove logo, is today's weather forecast. Terrible elevator music plays as you all stare at the screen, waiting for something to happen. But that's it.
"I'm starving. What's for tea, Mum?" Jack asks eventually.
Mum sighs. "Oh shit. The supermarket. We didn't get anything." She rubs her forehead with her hand. "I'm sorry, love. We don't have much. It'll have to be a snacky tea. Peanut butter on toast?"
"Awesome!" Jack replies.
Mum goes over to the breakfast bar and you watch as she picks up the half-eaten loaf and counts the slices. You follow her over.
"How much have we got?" you ask, softly.
"Six slices," she whispers solemnly. She opens the jar of peanut butter, holding it out to you so you can see how much is left. There's about the amount you'd put on a slice of toast for a pre-dinner snack.
"Two slices each then," you say.
Mum nods, slotting four slices into the toaster. "And two Weetabix. Actually, I'm not all that hungry. I'll save mine for the morning. Just in case." She isn't even vaguely believable. None of you have eaten since breakfast.
"You need to eat. Someone's bound to come and help us by the morning."
"No, I'm fine. I'll save it until we're really hungry."
"I'll just have one slice. You have my other one."
Mum shakes her head violently. "No, no, no. It's fine. I won't have you going without. You never wanted to come to Paradise bloody Grove in the first place. This is all my stupid idea."
"It's not your fault! Seriously, we'll share."
Eventually you persuade her. You know Mum always feels responsible when things go wrong. She blames herself for all the stuff with Dan, and you think somehow she even blames herself for Dad dying. You suppose you blamed her too for a while, not that it made any sense. None of it has ever been her fault, not really.
So you eat your toast, ever so slowly, in front of some stupid talent show on the TV, then the next thing you know Mum is gently shaking your shoulder and telling you to go brush your teeth. You stumble into the bathroom, your eyes squinting against the bright white light. A few minutes later you're in bed, and at almost the same moment [[you're fast asleep->Clean and serene]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Clean and serene''@@
It's the hunger that wakes you so early the next morning. It's like flicking a switch: one moment you're asleep, the next wide awake – none of that gently rousing from a dream, or wondering where you are. You know exactly where you are, and you're already panicking about it.
Your body is flooded with nervous energy. You want to jump straight out of bed and, well, do something - anything - even if it's just pacing the living room. You don't want to wake Mum and Jack though, so you force yourself to lie there, stiff as a board, until eventually you can't take it any more.
Mum is already sitting on the sofa. "Morning, love. Did I wake you up?"
You shake your head, then sit down beside her.
"What's that noise?" you ask.
"What noise?"
You listen as it comes again, a light tapping and scraping against the patio doors.
"It must be that squirrel from the other day," Mum says eventually.
For a moment you can't think what she's talking about. Then you remember: that cute little critter you'd seen out on the patio, a lifetime ago. You step over to the window, slowly opening the curtain so as not to startle it.
It isn't a squirrel.
Outside the window, staring straight at you, is a pair of those bloodshot greenish eyes and a pale face mottled with purple lesions. This one wears glasses with thick pink plastic frames, and the white T-short and dark blue trousers that make up the Paradise Grove maids' uniform. At her feet is a plastic bucket filled with cleaning cloths and squirty bottles, and in one hand is a yellow cloth, with which she's cleaning the window.
You make eye contact, but her blank expression doesn't alter. She just goes on cleaning, round and round in big circles, only stopping to work away at a small dirty mark. You stand there, watching, as she takes a step back to check for smudges, then moves round to the side of the lodge.
Then you turn to look at Mum. You stare at each other for a moment without speaking, until she stands up. "I'll put some coffee on."
All you can do is nod.
A moment later you hear the squeaking of a squeegee at the lodge's front window. You decide to leave the blinds closed until she's finished, but figure you're safe to look out of the back window now. A movement in the woods catches your eye. "Here comes another bunch of Segwayers."
Mum comes to stand next to you and you watch as they approach. The instructor is the same guy as yesterday, and you think you recognise the rest of the group too. "Do you think they've been going backwards and forwards all night?"
Mum shrugs. "Maybe. If crashing into the fence didn't stop them I don't see what else would have done."
You watch as, just like yesterday, they follow the path through the forest, miss the turn and slam into the fence. Then you sigh and turn away. That joke isn't funny any more.
The kettle boils, and Mum fills up the cafetiere while you open the front blinds. You can see movement in the lodge directly opposite, but from this distance it's impossible to make out any details. There's no way you're going out there until the maid is gone, but you make a mental note of which lodge it is. You're going to need all the help you can get.
The maintenance van is still parked outside your lodge, and you watch as the man with the glasses and the buggy who you saw yesterday squeezes past it. It's definitely the same man, and definitely the same baby – you recognise the tiger sleepsuit. But today the baby isn't crying, and the man isn't looking at his phone but staring straight ahead, with those same dead eyes. The smear of blood you saw on his neck yesterday has spread downwards and outwards, and now the front of his pale blue shirt is covered. It looks like he's wearing a dark red baby's bib. You shudder, like someone's walking over your grave, and drag your eyes away from his retreating back.
And it's that action, that dragging your eyes away, that forces you to see something clearly for the first time. You look at the maintenance van and read the words on its side. They say something about the variety of songbirds in the woods, something about how Paradise Grove cares for its environment, and then those magic words, "And that's why we've switched to clean, green electric vehicles."
You try to keep your voice calm. You aren't going to show your ignorance again. "Mum, you know how a standard car battery is 12 volts?"
"Yep."
"Well the battery in an electric van would be much bigger, wouldn't it?" Is bigger the right word? "More powerful? More volts?"
"I'd have thought so, yeah."
"How much more?"
"Few hundred volts, I guess."
"Ta-dah!" You point to the van, grinning.
"What?"
"Electric van! It says so on the side! We can hook the battery up to the fence and–" You wiggle your fingers and make a fizzing noise.
Mum doesn't look too sure. "Maybe," she says, slowly. "If we can find some way of connecting them, and if we don't electrocute ourselves in the process. It looks like the posts are plastic-coated, so I guess they wouldn't earth it." You have no idea what that means, but nod and try to look intelligent. Mum thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. "I dunno. We might be best off just waiting here for help."
"And what if help doesn't come? We've got two slices of bread and two Weetabix between the three of us. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, and Jack's going to be waking up any minute, and he's going to want breakfast. We're going to have to go out today."
"Maybe help will come this morning."
You raise your eyebrows. "Maybe. Maybe not."
As if on cue, the door to Jack's room opens, and he plods out, yawning, his hair standing up in a mat at the back.
"Good morning sweetpea," Mum says, sitting on the couch and opening her arms to him. He sits on her lap and Mum snuggles him close for a moment, before he moves to the armchair, picking up his tablet, which is plugged in just behind it. Soon he's busily prodding at the screen.
"Can I have some breakfast?" he asks, without looking up.
"Of course, love. I'm afraid there's only plain toast – there's no peanut butter left – or Weetabix with water. What would you like?"
"Isn't there any milk?"
"'Fraid not, love." You can hear Mum struggling to keep her voice light and sweet, ignoring the whiney tone in Jack's voice.
"I really wanted milk."
"I know that, love. So do we, but you know why we don't have any."
"Aw."
There's a long pause while you bit your lip. //Don't start.// You often think that Mum lets Jack get away with murder. She'd never let you talk to her like that. She never tells him to put that stupid tablet down either. You know why not – she still feels guilty about what Dan did, and she's letting Jack make up for lost time. He didn't have a tablet for ages after Dan smashed his.
It had been one of those afternoons, after school, where everything you and Jack did was wrong. Everything you said was stupid or rude, everything you did, or didn't do, was lazy, or spoiled, and made Dan angrier. Sometimes it seemed like all he did was shout at you from the moment school let out until the moment Mum came home.
You don't know why he was so angry that particular day. He used to spend a lot of time playing poker online, and generally you figured when he was angry it was because he'd lost, but you knew better than to ask. Anyway, he took offence at something Jack had done or said – you don't even remember what it was – and suddenly snatched Jack's tablet from his hands and flung it across the room. It hit the wall, only just missing the telly, and the screen shattered. Jack didn't even cry. He was too shocked – he just ran up to his room and shut the door. At least, he didn't cry then. He cried later, when Dan told Mum that Jack had broken it himself. He said he'd had a tantrum when he lost a game and thrown it on the floor. So poor Jack got frightened half to death, and his favourite toy in the world smashed, and then yelled at by Mum, all for nothing. And anything Jack or you said, every attempt to tell Mum the truth, only made it worse.
No wonder Mum still feels bad about it, nearly a year later. Understanding why she lets him get away with so much doesn't make it any easier to take though. You look away from Mum and Jack, and something catches your eye.
"Hang on," you say. "We do have milk. They left us some of those little UHT packets by the kettle."
You hold them up to show the others: six teeny-tiny, environmentally-catastrophic pots of highly-processed cow juice.
"Two Weetabix, please," Jack orders in a sing-song voice.
"Is that OK with you?" Mum asks you. "You can have toast."
"I'm fine," you say. "I think we should save the rest of the bread."
Mum nods as she gets up to fetch Jack's breakfast. "We should probably get dressed and have a look at that van." She looks out of the front window. "The maid's gone."
You quickly throw on yesterday's clothes, while Mum does the same.
"You stay near the lodge," she tells you, "and [[keep a look out->Electric dreams]]."
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Electric dreams''@@
You take a couple of steps outside, looking round slowly and carefully. There's nobody, and no thing, there. You try not to watch Mum, but to keep scanning the woods, the other lodges and the road, as she scurries towards the van and opens the driver's door. A moment later she drives the van up the footpath until it's right outside your front door.
"Thought I'd bring it closer so I can dive into the lodge if – if I need to."
You nod, walking round to the back of the van and opening the doors.
Inside is the most glorious sight you could have imagined. Actually, that's not true – you might have preferred a week's worth of groceries - but this is the next best thing: tools. The driver of the van must have been one of the maintenance people who roam the site, fixing DVD players and replacing lightbulbs. In the back of the van are several large toolboxes. You and Mum start opening them: spanners, hammers, wire, a drill.
"What about the battery?" you ask.
Mum ducks back into the van to unlock the bonnet, then opens it up and peers inside. She turns back to see you watching her. "Keep a lookout!" she reminds you.
You jump to attention and resume watching the road and the woods. Still nothing. You force yourself to keep vigilant, and not let your eyes be drawn towards the contents of the bonnet. It's pointless to watch Mum anyway. You can't help her. You can no more make sense of an engine than you can do open-heart surgery.
You keep scanning the woods as Mum comes round to the back of the van and roots through the toolboxes. Eventually she smiles. "I reckon I can do this. We'll check the coast's clear, then I'll take the van round to the fence."
You go back into the lodge. Jack's still sitting at the table, his empty cereal bowl in front of him, playing Zombie Island on his tablet. "Can I have some more Weetabix, please?" he asks, without looking up.
"All gone, I'm afraid," Mum replies.
"Aw."
"We'll try and get some later."
"When?"
"I'm not sure."
"Well, what else is there to eat?"
"If you're really hungry, you can have some toast."
"Can you make it for me? Two pieces, please. With peanut butter."
"Peanut butter's all gone too, I'm afraid."
Jack sighs deeply, as if from the pit of his soul. "Don't bother then."
He snatches up the tablet and goes back into the bedroom, not exactly slamming the door but certainly closing it extremely firmly.
"Get dressed!" Mum yells after him.
Mum is standing at the big window, and now she unlocks it and steps outside. "All clear," she confirms.
"I'll stand out here and keep watch," you say. "Be careful, yeah?"
Mum puts her hand on your shoulder. It makes you jump a little. Then she kisses you on the cheek. You flinch away. "I'll be fine," she says.
Then she's gone, out of the front door, shutting it behind her. You hear the van start up, then a moment later it appears round the back of the lodge, heading slowly towards the fence. You watch as the bonnet pops open, then Mum emerges, holding a set of jump leads. She bends over the van's engine, and you redouble your efforts to keep watch, suddenly aware that she's completely depending on you. You force yourself to keep looking from side to side, just aware, almost out of the corner of your eye, of Mum finishing up and sprinting back towards the lodge. You step aside to let her through the patio door, then stand there for a moment, each of you gesturing to the other to go first, until you both laugh. Mum puts her hand on your shoulder and you step in together, then close the door and lock it.
Then you wait, the two of you side-by-side at the window, as if it were a giant TV screen.
"Wish we had some popcorn," you say, immediately regretting thinking about food. You're bloody starving.
You're not sure how long you stand there. It's certainly long enough for Jack to re-emerge from his room in his jeans, T-shirt and hoodie, ask what you're doing, get bored of waiting and sit back on the sofa to carry on his game. "Call me when they come," he says, tossing his legs over the arm of the sofa and settling in.
Finally, you see them gliding into view. "Jack!" you say, your voice a little squeaky with excitement.
He sets the tablet down on the sofa and jumps to his feet, and you watch together as the man in the turquoise sweatshirt leads the way, along the track towards the fence. He only has two followers now, a man and a woman. You wonder what happened to the other man. Slowly, steadily, they sweep along the trail until, with a bump and then a fizz of sparks, the leader collides with the fence. His body shudders violently, and tiny explosions of blood and flesh fly out in all directions, making new sparks and pops each time they hit the fence. You find yourself thinking about popcorn again – delicious, salty, slightly greasy popcorn. You shake your head. //Gross.//
The woman in second place collides with the leader, and then the man bringing up the rear joins the heap of shuddering, fizzing, popping bodies, rising and falling in the dirt.
"Nice one, Mum," Jack says, patting her on the back like a patronising primary-school teacher, before heading back to the sofa to continue his game.
You turn away from the window, too. It seems a bit mean to go on watching.
As you turn, the world suddenly goes grey and blurry around the edges, and you have to catch hold of the breakfast bar to steady yourself. You know some people swear by this fasting lark, but it definitely isn't for you. As your vision clears, you look over at the two slices of bread that are all the nourishment you have left in the world.
Mum sees you looking. "Go ahead," she says. "Have some toast. I'll wait until later."
"We can share it."
"No, love, you have it. I'll be OK."
You shake your head. "I just remembered – there's people in the lodge across the road. I saw them this morning. Maybe they've got some food. Shall I go and ask?"
"Which lodge?" Mum asks. You point across the street. There's a figure standing in the front window and, as you point and Mum looks, it seems to wave at you.
"I'll go over," Mum says. "You guys stay put." What do you think? Should you [[let her go ->Everybody needs good neighbours]]? Perhaps you should [[go yourself->Winning friends and influencing people]]? Or maybe either option is too dangerous and you should [[stay away from them->Good fences make good neighbours]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Everybody needs good neighbours''@@
"Good plan," you say. "Be careful. I'll keep watch from the window."
You watch as Mum jogs across the street, looking both ways, not for cars but for marauding zombies. She jogs up the footpath to the lodge, and waves at the figure in the window. You expect them to open the door, but they just stand there on the other side of the glass, their arms at their sides. Bit weird, but then you guess you're all a little shell-shocked at the moment. Mum walks up to the door and lifts her hand to knock. Suddenly you realise what's happening. "No!" you shout, as you run out of the lodge. "Mum! Don't!"
But of course you're too late. She's already knocked. You can't stop yourself sprinting towards her, as the figure at the window suddenly jolts, as if waking from sleep, and moves, so fast that it seems they take just a single step, to the door. You see the realisation dawn on Mum's face, and she dives backwards as if she's been pushed, nearly colliding with you as you run uselessly towards her. "Get inside!" she yells.
The pair of you throw yourselves across the road towards your open door and slam it shut, then run to the window to look out.
The figure that emerges from the door opposite is a large woman – tall, but big-built too. She wears brightly-coloured tie-dyed leggings and a huge black jumper that looks hand-knitted. She runs down the footpath, towards the road, but, as you watch, she takes just a few more steps before slowing dramatically, and by the time she reaches the road she has an air of aimlessness about her. She stops and looks all around, as if searching for a reminder of why she came outside. When she doesn't find one, she eventually turns round and [[wanders back inside->Breakfast of champions]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Winning friends and influencing people''@@
"No, I'll go," you say. It seems only fair after what Mum just did, and in any case you're still buzzing with nervous energy.
You jog across the street, looking both ways, not for cars but for marauding zombies, and up the footpath to the lodge. You wave at the figure in the window, who you can now see is a large woman – tall, but big-built too. She wears brightly-coloured tie-dyed leggings and a huge black jumper that looks hand-knitted. She doesn't react to your wave but just stands there on the other side of the glass, her arms at her sides. Bit weird, but then you guess you're all a little shell-shocked at the moment. You walk up to the door and knock, just as you hear Mum's panicked voice: "No! Don't!"
Too late. The woman at the window suddenly jolts, as if waking from sleep, and moves, so fast that she seems to take just a single step, to the door. You dive backwards as if you've been pushed, nearly colliding with Mum as she runs towards you. "Get inside!" she yells.
The pair of you throw yourselves across the road towards your open door and slam it shut, then run to the window to look out.
The woman emerges from the door and runs down the footpath, towards the road, but, as you watch, she takes just a few more steps before slowing dramatically, and by the time she reaches the road she has an air of aimlessness about her. She stops and looks all around, as if searching for a reminder of why she came outside. When she doesn't find one, she eventually turns round and [[wanders back inside->Breakfast of champions]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Good fences make good neighbours''@@
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," you say. "How can we be sure it's safe?"
You and Mum stand at the window, squinting to see the figure in the lodge opposite. There's definitely someone in there, standing at the window. You wave at them, but they don't move. They must be able to see you but they just stand there, their arms at their sides. Bit weird, but then you guess you're all a little shell-shocked at the moment. You try another wave.
The person at the window suddenly jolts, as if waking from sleep, and moves, so fast that it seems they take just a single step, to the door. The door opens and the figure that emerges from the door opposite is a large woman – tall, but big-built too. She wears brightly-coloured tie-dyed leggings and a huge black jumper that looks hand-knitted. She runs down the footpath, towards the road, but, as you watch, she takes just a few more steps before slowing dramatically, and by the time she reaches the road she has an air of aimlessness about her. She stops and looks all around, as if searching for a reminder of why she came outside. When she doesn't find one, she eventually turns round and [[wanders back inside->Breakfast of champions]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Breakfast of champions''@@
"She was one of them," Mum says.
"Yes."
You stand there watching for a moment, making sure she really isn't coming after you, then, in the same moment, you each pull out a chair from the dining table and slump into it. You put your head down on the table, trying to breathe deeply and control your heartbeat. It doesn't really work.
You raise your head again. Jack is still sitting there with his legs over the sofa arm, playing his stupid game.
You make eye contact with Mum and incline your head towards him. "He didn't even notice," you whisper.
Mum smiles and shakes her head.
"Anyhoo," she says, in a stupidly cheery voice. "How about that toast then?"
"We'll have one slice each," you tell her. "And then we need to get more food."
Mum rubs her forehead and nods. You notice for the first time how pale she looks. She must be starving too. "Closest place is the Waffle Shack, down by the lake," she says.
"Mum! There's been a zombie invasion! I don't think the Waffle Shack will be open!"
She shakes her head and does her best Homer Simpson impression. "Well, d'oh. I wasn't expecting them to be open for business. But if we can break into the kitchen..."
"Oh. I see. Yeah." The hunger is making you slow on the uptake. "I was just joking." Mum raises one eyebrow. "Do you think it's safe?"
"Depends what you mean by safe. We've got the quads. They won't be able to catch us on those. As long as we keep our wits about us I don't think it's much more dangerous than staying here, especially once you start getting hangry."
You give her a withering look. You can't help it if you get a bit grumpy when you haven't eaten.
Mum laughs. She takes your hand for a moment. "It's going to be OK," she says. When she lets go, you just sit there, your mind completely blank.
You stare at the toaster until it finishes, then eat your dry toast in silence. It's nowhere near enough.
"Right – let's get going," Mum says when you've both finished.
"Do I have to come?" Jack asks, without looking up from the tablet. "I've nearly completed the level. Can I wait here?"
"Shoes!" Mum says, in her not-quite-shouting-but-certainly-meaning-business voice. A moment later, Jack's [[tying his laces->A waffly big adventure]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''A waffly big adventure''@@
Mum leads the way to the Waffle House on her quad, moving slowly along the empty road with Jack clinging on around her waist, and you just behind, carefully scrutinising the woods for movement. Something darts out from the greenery and your whole body jolts in shock – like when you dream that you're falling and shake yourself awake – but it's just a rabbit. Occasionally you see a figure inside one of the lodges but, even at this slow speed, it's impossible to tell if it's an innocent holidaymaker or one of Them, so you just keep chugging on, heading towards the lakeside, and the Waffle House.
As you reach the little artifical beach, you can see one of the pedalos out on the lake, with four figures on board, all decked out in matching life preservers. It looks to be two adults and two kids, enjoying their happy family holiday together. Except, even at this distance, you can see that their life preservers, which should be day-glo orange, are spotted with dark red patches. There's nothing normal about them.
As you circle the lake, you can see figures up in the trees too, jumping and climbing their way along the Magical Treetop Adventure Trail. Two of them reach the end of the course and stand on the platform, about to commence the spectacular finale: the zipline right across the lake. They pause there, as if gathering their courage, then, holding hands, step off the platform. One of them shouts - not the excited screams you heard yesterday but a low moan. As they pass the near edge of the lake, something drops from the zipline and splashes into the water. A shoe. As it bobs in the water, you can see that it still holds the bottom half of a calf. A moment later there's another splash. You don't look.
You pass the inexplicably pirate-themed mini-golf course and come to a stop in front of the Waffle House. It's a low, wide building, with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the lake. Above the windows is the logo, spelled out in letters decorated to look like huge waffles, with squirts of cream, shiny red cherries and sprinkles on top.
You can see a family inside, seated by the window. You put your hands to the glass, blocking out the reflections to get a better look, and recognise the buggy-pushing man again. His baby is sat in a highchair now, still in its tiger onesie, and the man's wife sits opposite him, her back to you. The mother is leaning towards the child, holding something out towards its mouth, in that familiar "just try one bite" gesture. But this isn't a spoonful of pasta and pesto – it's a human forearm. As you watch, the mother pulls back the turquoise fabric that still covers one end. It reminds you of Mum peeling bananas for Jack when he was little.
So, are you hungry enough to brave the happy family and [[try and get inside->Eat, slay, move]] or is it [[far too dangerous->Play it safe]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Eat, slay, move''@@
"I'm starving," you say. "Let's see if we can get in round the back."
You lead the way, around the side of the building, to a small concreted square, most of which is taken up by a commercial-sized bin. There's a grey metal door and, when you try the handle, it opens.
"Why wouldn't they lock it?" Jack asks.
"I suppose they didn't have time," Mum replies. Then she gently pushes you aside. "I'll go first," she says.
She steps inside. A moment later she's back in the doorway. "There's no one here," she says. "Just that one family in the restaurant, but they've already got–" She looks at Jack and stops herself. "I don't think they'll bother us."
You follow her in. The kitchen is smaller than you expected; no bigger than your kitchen at home. At one end is the door to the dining room. You peep through the porthole window and see the family still tucking into whatever the lumps on the table in front of them are. At the other end of the kitchen, Mum is holding open another door, which you can see leads to the storeroom.
Inside is an enormous fridge, filled with huge plastic bottles of waffle mixture. You grab one and bring it back into the kitchen, where Mum has already figured out how to turn on the waffle machines. A few minutes later, that yummy, pancake-day smell is filling the air, while you and Jack explore the storeroom, looking for toppings: cheese and bacon for first courses; chocolate sprinkles, whipped cream, marshmallows and caramel sauce for afters.
You eat your first waffle so fast you barely bother to chew it. You know that thing where you don't realise how hungry you are until you start eating? Yeah, well, that. Mum's already refilling the waffle machine with mixture like a factory production line. You eat three waffles before you even began to feel satisfied, then another one for pudding, just to make sure. You smother it in so much whipped cream that normally Mum would have told you off, but she doesn't say a word. She's too busy dousing her third waffle in chocolate sprinkles.
"Mum, can I have a Coke?" Jack asks.
"You know the rules – one a week. And you had one the other day at the safari park."
"Pleeeease?"
Mum sighs. "I suppose your teeth are the least of our worries right now."
"Can I have one too?" you ask.
"Go for your life."
You peer through the porthole into the dining room again. The family are still sitting there at their window table, but now the baby is slumped to one side in its highchair, and the parents are leaning forward in their seats with their heads on the table. It looks like their feast of let's-not-think-about-what has sent them off to sleep.
The bar is right next to the kitchen door, so you slowly push the door open and slip into the dining room. Behind the bar is a phone. You pick it up but there's no dial tone.
The family don't move as you fill up three tall glasses with Coke and carefully carry them back to the kitchen.
You down yours quickly, then sit there, trying not to burp, as Jack picks at his second pudding waffle. "This is my best pudding of the holiday so far," he announces. "Better than the ice-cream sundae at the safari park. Can I have some more Coke?"
Mum sighs again. "Help yourself." He hops down from the counter where he's been perching and goes to get another drink.
It's weird to hear him talking about the safari park, weirder still to think that it's only two days since you were safely ensconced in the car, enjoying the thrill of watching those huge lions, so close to you. You remember the loud clunk the heavy gates to the lion enclosure made as they closed behind you, and the high fences that surrounded the safari park, and your mind wanders to think of those Segway riders, fizzing and popping against the electrified fence.
And your next thought is so brilliant, yet so utterly, blindingly obvious, that it makes you jump to your feet, knocking your empty glass to the floor, where it smashes. "The gate!" you almost shout.
But before you can explain, your thoughts are interrupted by a horrifying scream. Mum jumps up, just as the door to the dining room swings open. Jack runs part-way through, his mouth wide-open as he screams again, then suddenly jolts backwards, as Daddy Zombie grabs at his arm. Mummy and Daddy Zombie have woken from their nap, and it looks like they're feeling peckish again.
Mum's reactions are fast, as she runs to Jack and begins thumping Daddy Zombie's arm hard with her fists. He doesn't loosen his grip on Jack. You look around for a weapon and grab the closest thing to hand: a bottle of pancake mix. The top is already off, and you slosh it into Daddy Zombie's face. It splatters over him, coating him from forehead to chin, blinding him and dripping down his front. He lets go of Jack, pulls a tissue from his pocket and begins carefully wiping his glasses.
Mum pulls Jack through the door, then slams her full weight against it. Through the porthole, you see Daddy Zombie career backwards and collide with Mummy Zombie, knocking them both to the ground. Jack, nearest to the external door, is already halfway outside, with you and then Mum at his heels.
"My arm," he wails. "He hurt my arm."
But waiting for you outside is another shock. A young man is sitting on one of the quads, his hands on the controls and his chin raised as his friend takes a photo with his phone. They're dressed in hoodies, and those jeans with the super-skinny legs that don't pull up properly so they show your pants and make you look like you're wearing a nappy. They look like the kind of lads Daily Mail readers don't like hanging around on street corners, but they'd like these guys even less than your typical hoodie, since their bad skin isn't caused by hormonal acne, and their weird staring eyes aren't from trying out the [[latest legal high->The kids are alright]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Play it safe''@@
"I'm sorry, kids," Mum says. "But it's too dangerous while they're in there. We'll find something to eat somewhere else."
You nod. You know she's right, but the gnawing in your stomach is almost painful now.
You lead the way, around the side of the building, to a small concreted square, most of which is taken up by a commercial-sized bin. You lift the lid and look inside. "Maybe there'll be some leftovers."
"Eww," Jack says. "That's gross." He takes a step back from you, leaning against the wall of the Waffle House.
You shrug. "Beggars can't be choosers."
Soon you and Mum are rummaging among the used paper napkins, plastic straws and unwanted receipts.
"Remember that ice-cream sundae at the safari park?" Jack says. "I wish I could have another one."
You and Mum exchange a glance but neither of you says anything.
Once you get past the inital irriation, it's weird to hear him talking about the safari park, weirder still to think that it was only two days ago that you were safely ensconced in the car, enjoying the thrill of watching those huge lions, so close to you. You remember the loud clunk the heavy gates to the lion enclosure made as they closed behind you, and the high fences that surrounded the safari park, and your mind wanders to think of those Segway riders, fizzing and popping against the electrified fence.
And your next thought is so brilliant, yet so utterly, blindingly obvious, that you drop the bag of rubbish you're holding on the floor, smashing an empty bottle inside. "The gate!" you almost shout.
But before you can explain, your thoughts are interrupted by a horrifying scream. You and Mum spin round, to see Jack struggling in terror, Daddy Zombie trying to drag him by the arm through the open back door, into the Waffle House.
Mum's reactions are fast, as she runs to Jack and begins thumping Daddy Zombie's arm hard with her fists, but he doesn't loosen his grip on Jack. You look around for a weapon, but there's nothing to hand. You run over and help Mum with her thumping but it's hopeless - half-step by half-step Jack is being dragged through the doorway as Daddy Zombie brings home dinner for his family.
But all of a sudden Daddy Zombie stops pulling and turns his head sharply towards the dining room. Everything is still for a fraction of a second, and you hear another sound: a baby's cry. Then Daddy Zombie lets go of Jack entirely and runs back inside.
Mum pulls Jack safely outside, then slams the door.
"My arm," Jack wails. "He hurt my arm."
You run back around the side of the Waffle House, towards the quads, but waiting for you there is another shock. A young man is sitting on one of the bikes, his hands on the controls and his chin raised as his friend takes a photo with his phone. They're dressed in hoodies, and those jeans with the super-skinny legs that don't pull up properly so they show your pants and make you look like you're wearing a nappy. They look like the kind of lads Daily Mail readers don't like hanging around on street corners, but they'd like these guys even less than your typical hoodie, since their bad skin isn't caused by hormonal acne, and their weird staring eyes aren't from trying out the [[latest legal high->The kids are alright]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The kids are alright''@@
"Shit. Shit. Shit," you mutter helpfully. "Mum, what do we do now?"
Mum's response to the situation is a bit more helpful: she's already dragging the huge metal bin to block the Waffle House's back door. Top stress-management tip, right there: when feeling overwhelmed, always try to deal with just one group of zombies at a time. Maybe make a list.
It's just a pity that the door opens inwards, rather than out, so soon you have a family audience watching you from behind the bin. Luckily, they just stand there looking dopey, but surely you don't have long before they figure out that the bin is moveable.
The next couple of seconds go in slow motion, as Mum steps past you, her back straight and her head held high, towards the quads. "Confidence," she mutters as she passes you.
She stops a metre or so from the zombie lads and stands there, her hands on her hips. She looks at them, her head slightly on one side, and an expression on her face of, well, you don't really know what. It isn't threatening. You guess it's almost amused.
For a moment the three of them stand there, Mum smirking at the zombies, the zombies staring blankly back at her. Then the lad on the quad swings his leg around and gets off. You hold your breath.
Both the zombies take a step backwards. You swear that one of them nods at Mum before they turn and shamble off towards the mini-golf clubhouse.
Mum's sitting on her quad, turning the key, before you've even managed to shut your gaping mouth. You push Jack towards her, jump onto the other quad and you're off, skirting the lake again, past the golf course, where the two lads are taking it in turns to whack the signpost with golf clubs, and then out onto the main road again.
A few minutes later you're pulling up outside the lodge, then Mum's turning the key and you're safely inside.
Jack slumps straight back into the armchair, his tablet out again. He's white as a sheet, and you can tell that the game is a way to block out the world. He's the same after a bad day at school – you don't get any sense out of him until he's spent an hour blowing stuff up in Minecraft. Mum sits down heavily next to him on the sofa, and he snuggles in against her shoulder, without taking his eyes off the screen.
"Is your arm okay?" Mum asks.
Jack just grunts.
"Can I have a look?"
Jack shrugs, then makes his body go floppy so she can extract his arm from his hoodie. He still hasn't looked away from the screen.
Mum gently prods his arm, "Does this hurt?"
"Not really."
"How about this?"
"No."
"Is it in the same place as when you – when it was broken?"
"No, it's further up. Near my shoulder. Seriously, Mum, it's fine. I can move it and everything. It's just a bit sore."
Mum finally stops fussing and sits down at the dining table, resting her head in her hands. She closes her eyes.
"God," she sighs, "I'd sell my soul for a cup of tea."
"I think there's one bag left from the welcome pack," you say, stepping into the kitchen area. "Do you want to share it?"
Mum nods and you put the kettle on, glad for something to do. You know what you're all thinking about and, strangely enough, it isn't the zombies.
It's the last time your family was attacked.
It was the day of the county cross-country trials, and it was Mum's turn to drive you and three of your team-mates to the race. It had been raining pretty much solidly for weeks and the course was a quagmire, but the sun had come up just in time for your race. You're really good when it's muddy – you're not afraid to splash on through it, and you don't even get scared on the downhills. In fact, you love that feeling of throwing yourself down the hill, not thinking too much and just trusting your feet to find the ground with each step. You guess that's the feeling some people get clinging onto that stupid yellow ring as they hurtle down The Tempest. Well, you get it from legging up and down a couple of miles' worth of muddy hills. Anyway, you came second in your school, third overall, but you never got to stay for the prize-giving, because Mum had a call from Dan, saying they were in the hospital and Jack had broken his arm.
Dan told her something about a climbing frame; something about a fall. But while he was outside the ward, spinning his lies to Mum on the phone, Jack decided he could trust the friendly young nurse who knew so much about Minecraft, and so he told her the truth: Jack had knocked Dan's coffee over, so Dan had knocked Jack over – knocked him right over so he fell down the steps from the dining room into the kitchen and smacked his arm against the marble worktop.
By the time you arrived, two social workers were sitting with Jack, and Dan was gone. You think he'd been arrested. They wouldn't let Mum see Jack at first, and you remember her shouting at them, demanding to see her son. You remember waiting with one of the social workers for Gran to come and get you, and you remember how you and Jack stayed in Gran and Grandpa's spare room that night, all of you trying to pretend it was just a jolly sleepover, while poor Mum had to convince the social workers that Dan was never, ever coming back into your lives. It took a while to convince them, and it took a while to convince you, too.
But that's all over now.
<<if visited("Eat, slay, move")>>
You take the two mugs of tea over to the table. It's a bit too weak and the UHT milk makes it taste plasticky, but you don't care. You're indoors, you're warm, you're well-fed and, for now, you're safe. You rest your head in your hands, settling in. But beside you, Mum is doing the opposite, sitting up straighter in her seat as if getting ready to go somewhere.
"We can't stay here, can we?" she says eventually, whispering so that Jack won't hear. "We can't keep being lucky."
"Maybe we can. Someone has to come and help eventually."
"We can't. That was pure luck, just then. If you'd been a bit slower throwing that batter, or I'd been wrong about those lads – if they hadn't backed off..." her voice petered off, then she took a deep breath and started again. "My instinct was right that time, but next time it might not be, or next time there might be more of them, or they might be faster, or we might be more tired."
<<else>>
You take the two mugs of tea over to the table. It's a bit too weak and the UHT milk makes it taste plasticky, but you don't care. At least the warm liquid will fill your stomach a little. And at least, for now, you're safe. You rest your elbows on the table and your head in your hands.
"We can't stay here long," Mum says eventually, whispering so that Jack won't hear. "We need to get food."
"We can wait a bit longer. Someone has to come and help eventually."
"We can't wait. Look at you - you're white as a sheet. If we don't get something to eat soon we won't be able to fight and we won't be able to run."
<<endif>>
You want to argue with her, but what can you say? We know she's right. You just go on slurping your tea.
"You were going to say something," Mum says suddenly. "Just before they attacked us. Something about a gate."
"Oh, yeah."
<<if visited("Eat, slay, move")>>
But now you don't want to tell her about it. In the moment, when you first came up with the idea, you felt so clever and resourceful, like you could do anything. But that was temporary. It wasn't confidence that had given you the mad idea, it was stupidity; not understanding the situation properly. That and the crazy blood-sugar high. "It was nothing. It wouldn't work."
<<else>>
But now you don't want to tell her about it. In the moment, when you first came up with the idea, you felt so clever and resourceful, like you could do anything. But it was temporary. It wasn't confidence that had given you the mad idea, it was stupidity; not understanding the situation properly. And even if there was a chance of success, you were so very, very tired now. "It was nothing. It wouldn't work."
<<endif>>
"Go on. Tell me anyway."
"No, it's nothing."
"Just tell me. It's better than sitting here in silence."
You sigh. "It was just something I saw on my run, on the first morning. If you follow the path through the wood," you gesture vaguely in the direction of the path, "it runs along beside the fence, and eventually there's a gate. I was thinking that if we could open it we could get out into the safari park and get help - raise the alarm. But we'd never get it open. There's a massive padlock on it."
Mum raises her eyebrows. "There's bolt-cutters in the van."
She points out of the window, and your eyes follow, out towards the van and the pile of Segways and rotten flesh dressed in rags. They aren't moving now. You guess the battery ran out. Something else is different too.
"Hey – look!" you say. "The pile's bigger!" You can distinctly make out the wheels of five Segways now – another party must have joined the first. And you don't know how much of it is pride, how much adrenaline and how much the effect of half a teabag's worth of caffeine, but you feel the tiredness and the hopelessness leave your body, just a little. "We got another batch of those rotten bastards!"
Now your brain is firing like, well, like a powerful battery frying a zombie. "The gate's definitely wide enough to drive the quads through. And then I guess we just head for the road and make our way to the nearest people – at the shop, or one of the guards."
"It's got to be worth a go," Mum says, downing the rest of her tea. "I'll get the bolt cutters. Keep an eye out for you-know-whos."
She slides open the patio door. You watch the forest as intently as ever as she runs out to the van then, a moment later, returns holding what looks like a massive pair of pliers.
Something catches your eye, just beyond the tree with the den, and you hold your breath, watching for another movement. A squirrel darts out from between the propped-up branches, then scurries along to the next tree and runs up it as if it were horizontal. There's something about the hippety-hoppety way it runs which you can't help but interpret as meaning it's happy. Surely a depressed squirrel would drag its little legs along in the leaves, not bounce up and down like that. It's nice to see. At least not everyone in the forest is having their weekend ruined.
Mum slides the patio door closed behind her and holds the bolt cutters up to show you. "Right – come on, Jacky boy," she says cheerfully. "[[Let's blow this thing and go home->Park life]]."
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Park life''@@
Now it's your turn to lead the way, as you drive towards the gate. Soon you come across the Paradise Grove Super Shuttle, parked – abandoned – in the road. Just behind it is one of the maintenance vans, close enough that you have to do a bit of a slalom manoeuvre to get through. You look in through the window of the Super Shuttle: nothing alive.
You turn onto the path behind the lodges, following the line of the fence, wondering again whether they built it to keep intruders out or to keep you in. The gate is exactly where you remembered it.
"You're a bloody genius," Mum says, as she hops down from her quad, brandishing the bolt cutters. "Do you want to do the honours?"
You shrug. "Alright then." You take the cutters and carefully place their jaws around the metal rod of the padlock, then squeeze the handles together. They bite into the metal, then stick. Mum puts her hands on top of yours, and together you squeeze with all your might. The jaws finally meet with a satisfying snap. A moment later the padlock is off, the gate is open, and you're riding the quads through like conquering heroes, stopping only for a moment to close the gate over behind you. Just in case.
There's no path beyond the gate, but the undergrowth isn't too thick, and you drive slowly forward until you come to the road that winds through the safari park. Ahead, you can see one of the little guard huts you remember from your visit the other day, so you follow the road round to it. A sign tells you you're approaching the lion enclosure. Good. There'll be someone on duty at the hut, and they'll have a radio, and all kinds of security arrangements. You're just seconds from help now, and your ordeal is over.
Except there's nobody there. At first you don't believe it. As you ride up, you expect someone to come running out towards you, asking how the hell you managed to go around a safari park on quad bikes. When they don't, you think maybe they're already busy calling for help. It's only after you've got down from the bike, walked right over to the hut, looked through the window and confirmed that it really is empty, that you can quite believe it.
"What time is it?" you ask Mum.
She already has her phone out of her pocket. "Only just gone three. They should be open for a couple of hours yet."
"Have you got a signal?"
Mum frowned. "Not funny."
"Just checking."
"They must have been called away to help someone. Maybe a car broke down or something." She thinks for a moment. "You guys stay here. I'll go to the next guard hut. There was one at the wolf enclosure, before we came to the lions."
She starts the quad, turns it around and heads off down the road, in the reverse of the route you took the other day. Just a minute or so later she's back, shaking her head. "There's nobody there. The whole place is deserted."
"Can we get into the rest of the park?"
She shakes her head. "The only way out is through the wolves or through the lions. There's fencing all around."
So there you are, an enclosure full of lions to one side of you, a cage of wolves to the other, and a holiday park crawling with zombies behind you.
You can see Jack's eyes beginning to well up. "What are we going to do?" he asks Mum.
"Not sure, love," Mum replies in a level voice. "Just give me a minute." She looks off into the distance as she turns it over, as if the answer to all your problems is up at the top of one of those enormous trees.
Then she turns to you. "Come with me for a minute. Let's go and have a look at that fence."
You hop down from the quads and Mum leads the way towards the fence that surrounds the lions' enclosure. "I know what we have to do," she says, once you're out of Jack's earshot. "We have to open up the fence."
You're actually speechless. You stand there, opening and closing your mouth, looking at her as if she's gone entirely mad. Because, as far as you're concerned, she clearly has. You eventually manage to mutter, "What?"
"We need to open up the fence."
"But we can't go that way! There's lions in there!"
Now it's Mum's turn to look at you as if you're mad, or stupid. "Yes, I know that," she says slowly. "Look, if anyone was coming to help us, they'd be here by now. We can't call for help. We can't fight the – the zombies. We can't kill more than one or two at a time, if we're lucky, and God knows how many there are now. But if we could let the lions in, maybe they could do the job for us. We let the lions in to Paradise Grove, they go after the zombies, and then eventually, when it's safe, we come back here and escape through their enclosure."
You think about what she's saying. "It's too dangerous," you say finally. "Even if we could cut a hole in the fence, there's no way to make sure the lions don't go for us."
"The quads must be faster than a lion."
"I'm not sure I want to test that."
"Let's at least have a look at the fence," Mum says. "There's no point even having this conversation if the wire's too strong to cut through."
You move closer and take a look at the wires that separate you from the lions. They're only a few millimetres thick.
"The bolt-cutters will go through them easily," Mum says, and you realise you're disappointed.
"But Mum, this is suicidal! We don't know how fast the lions can run. Do you really want to be sitting on the quads as a herd of lions catches up with us?"
"Pride."
"What?"
"Doesn't matter. Look, we don't have any choice. We can't go on counting on being lucky, and nobody's coming to help us. Just look at this place: where the hell is everyone? They've cleared out and left us. We're on our own."
You have to admit it, she's right. There's just once thing to decide: is [[Mum going to cut the fence->Mum's the word]] or [[are you->Break on through]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Mum's the word''@@
You think for a moment. The thought of driving that quad, squeezing on the throttle, hearing the breathing of the lions behind you... No, you're not that brave.
It's as if Mum reads your thoughts. "Take Jack on your quad," she says, in a tone that you know better than to argue with. "Go back to the lodge. I'll cut through the fence and then I'll come after you."
"Mum, I can't leave you."
"Yes you can."
"Let's all go back to the lodge. Someone's bound to come eventually. Or we could try and get to the supermarket in the Pleasure Dome. We'll think of something."
Mum looks almost cross. "I'm not taking you back to that lodge, only to come back here tomorrow and be in exactly the same position, only hungrier and weaker. Nobody's coming to rescue us. Now take Jack and keep him safe."
"Mum, that's the bravest thing I've ever-" And then you can't say any more, because if you try you're going to cry. Instead you just hug her.
Eventually Mum takes a step backwards. "Anyway, we'd better test out those cutters first. Let's see if our amazing plan even works." She jogs back to the quad, picks up the cutters and brings them over to the fence. They snip through the wire easily.
"That's that then," she says. "Off you go. I'll give you five minutes before I start cutting."
"We won't need that long. Make it three."
"What difference does it make?"
You shrug. "I don't want to have to wait ages to know you're safe."
Now Mum hugs you, and you stand there for a long time before finally she speaks. "I love you, you know. I'm so sorry for – well, everything, this past year."
"I know. I love you too."
You force yourself to walk back over to Jack and the quads. You don't want to – it feels a bit, well, final. Mum comes too, kissing Jack on the top of his head as he half-heartedly squirms away. "Love ya," she says, and you can see she's trying to keep it light. "Right, now hop onto the other quad."
And she tells him the plan, so confidently that he doesn't even question it, quietly climbing down from Mum's quad and then sitting himself behind you. "Hold on really tight," Mum says. "That's right."
Then she turns to you. "Now get out of here."
You nod and start the engine, then you're off, heading back towards the lodge. You find yourself counting seconds. You told Mum to wait three minutes. That's 180 seconds. You know she'll actually wait at least five. That's 300 seconds. But you haven't even reached 100 before you're squeezing hard on the brake.
In front of you is the maintenance vehicle, with the Paradise Grove Super Shuttle behind it. You slow down to weave in between them, but as you approach you see a movement, and then someone, or something, jumps out of the Super Shuttle and stands in the small gap, blocking your way. You recognise him immediately as the dad from the paintball, still wearing his grim camouflage overalls. And, just like the last time you saw him, the thing that terrifies you so much isn't that he's covered in blood, it isn't his yellow-green eyes and it isn't that weird blotchy purple skin. Or at least it isn't //just// those things. It's the fact that he looks [[so much like Dan->You're history]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Break on through''@@
You think for a moment. The thought of driving that quad, squeezing on the throttle, hearing the breathing of the lions behind you, is terrifying, but then the thought of just sitting there on your bum, waiting, while Mum puts herself in danger is even worse.
"Take Jack on your quad," you say, trying to sound authoritative. "Go back to the lodge. I'll cut through the fence and then I'll come after you."
"No chance. I’ll do it. You go with Jack."
"Jack needs you. If anything goes wrong – Mum, just go. Please."
Mum looks like she’s going to be sick. "Let's all go back to the lodge. Someone's bound to come eventually. Or we could try and get to the supermarket in the Pleasure Dome. We'll think of something."
"Nobody's coming to rescue us. If we go back to the lodge, all that happens is that we end up back here tomorrow, in exactly the same position, only hungrier and weaker. Now take Jack and keep him safe."
"That's the bravest thing I've ever-" And then she can't say any more, because she starts to cry. She gives you a hug so tight she hurts your ribs, but you don’t mind.
Eventually you pull away. "Anyway, I'd better test out those cutters first. Let's see if our amazing plan even works." You jog back to the quad, pick up the cutters and take them over the fence. They snip through the wire easily.
"That's that then," you say. "Off you go. I'll give you five minutes before I start cutting."
"We won't need that long. Make it three."
"What difference does it make?"
She shrugs. "I don't want to have to wait ages to know you're safe."
Now it’s your turn to hug her, and you stand there for a long time before finally she speaks. "I love you, you know. I'm so sorry for – well, everything, this past year."
"I know. I love you too."
You force yourself to walk back over to Jack and the quads. You don't want to – it feels a bit, well, final. “See you later,” you say, ruffling up his hair like you’re about 30 years older than him.
“Oi! Get off!” he says, batting your hand away.
You laugh, as Mum gets into position on the quad. "Now get out of here," you say.
She nods and starts the engine. You start counting the seconds: //one, one thousand; two, one thousand//, all the way to 180. Then you crouch down and make your first snip, where the fence meets the soil, then start to work your way upwards, stopping every few snips to shake out the tension in your wrist. When the slit is about a metre high, you begin to snip sideways, and then back down towards the ground again, creating a huge, upside-down catflap. You’re aware of a movement beyond the fence, as the lazy male lion stirs and stretches, then slowly draws himself up onto his feet.
You feel your heart beginning to speed up. It feels like you’ve been snipping at that wire all your life, and will go on snipping it for eternity. You’re still only a third of the way down. Now halfway. The lion pads a step closer.
You stop to shake out your wrist again and suddenly the cut flap of fence flops down, opening up a doorway. You jump up, flinging the bolt cutters to the ground, and run to the quad, squeezing the throttle hard as you follow the footpath back to the main road.
You risk a glance over your shoulder, but there’s no sign of anything following you – for now. You turn towards the lodge. But soon you’re squeezing the brake.
In front of you is the maintenance vehicle, with the Paradise Grove Super Shuttle behind it. You slow down to weave in between them, but as you approach you see a movement, and then someone, or something, jumps out of the Super Shuttle and stands in the small gap, blocking your way. You recognise him immediately as the dad from the paintball, still wearing his grim camouflage overalls. And, just like the last time you saw him, the thing that terrifies you so much isn't that he's covered in blood, it isn't his yellow-green eyes and it isn't that weird blotchy purple skin. Or at least it isn't //just// those things. It's the fact that he looks so much like Dan.
The quad comes to a stop, a few metres from the zombie. Dan II just stands there, blocking the gap, staring at you. For a moment, just a moment, a feeling of utter hopelessness washes over you. You're going to die: you, Jack, Mum. It's just a matter of how quickly. You don't stand a chance. You aren't superheroes or soldiers or slayers. You're just a mum and a couple of kids.
You sit there and stare, until Dan II takes a step towards you and the movement snaps you out of your self-indulgence. You pull on the throttle and twist the handlebars hard to the right. Nothing happens. You feel the despair begin to descend again. The quad's broken. This is it.
Then you understand: the bike has stalled. That's all. You turn the key, press the red button, and it comes to life again. But now Dan II is just inches away, reaching his arms towards you. You can see his fingernails, black with mud – and something else, dark and thick. Those hands are not going to touch you.
You pull on the throttle, and the bike knocks against his leg, just hard enough to send him sprawling backwards. You see him thud to the tarmac, but don't wait to see what will happen next. You turn the handlebars and drive back the way you came.
But the moment you turn, the moment you're out of range of those awful grasping hands, your fear turns to rage. Here you are, running away again. Dan II will get up, dust himself down, and go straight back to whatever unspeakable thing he was doing in the Super Shuttle. You look over your shoulder and, sure enough, he's already back on his feet, watching you flee.
No. You're not going to run away. Sometimes, you have to confront your fears head-on. You twist the quad round again, then pull the throttle hard, heading straight for Dan II, as fast as you can go.
That pale, blotchy face just goes right on staring as you hurtle towards him. He doesn't move out of the way; doesn't even flinch. He thinks he's untouchable. But, just before you hit him, you swear you see a flicker of something cross his face. You don't know what it is. Surprise, maybe? And then his face is gone, and he's a pile of rags and meat beneath your wheels.
You loosen your grip on the throttle as you manoeuvre around the Super Shuttle, then the maintenance van. The lodge is only a minute or so away now, just round the next corner. The despair is gone. You're going to do this. [[You can do anything->Once more with felines]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''You're history''@@
The quad comes to a stop, a few metres from the zombie.
Jack screams in your ear. "It's Dan!"
"No, it's not. It's the man from the paintball. Remember? We saw him in the carpark too."
Dan II just stands there, blocking the gap, staring at you. For a moment, just a moment, a feeling of utter hopelessness washes over you. You're going to die: you, Jack, Mum. It's just a matter of how quickly. You don't stand a chance. You aren't superheroes or soldiers or slayers. You're just a mum and a couple of kids.
You sit there and stare as Dan II takes a step towards you.
But then Jack screams again and you snap out of your trance. You pull on the throttle and twist the handlebars hard to the right. Nothing happens. You feel the despair begin to descend again. The quad's broken. This is it.
"The key!" Jack screams. And you understand: the bike has stalled. That's all. You turn the key, press the red button, and it comes to life again. But now Dan II is just inches away, reaching out his arms towards you. You can see his fingernails, black with mud – and something else, dark and thick.
Those hands are not going to touch you, and they're not going to touch your brother.
You pull on the throttle, and the bike knocks against his leg, just hard enough to send him sprawling backwards. You see him thud to the tarmac, but don't wait to see what will happen next. You turn the handlebars and drive back the way you came.
But the moment you turn, the moment you're out of range of those awful grasping hands, your fear turns to rage. Here you are, running away again. Dan II will get up, dust himself down, and go straight back to whatever unspeakable thing he was doing in the Super Shuttle. You look over your shoulder and, sure enough, he's already back on his feet, watching you flee.
No. You're not going to run away. Sometimes, you have to confront your fears head-on.
"Hold on tight," you tell Jack.
And then you're twisting the quad round again, then pulling the throttle hard, heading straight for Dan II, as fast as you can go.
That pale, blotchy face just goes right on staring as you hurtle towards him. He doesn't move out of the way; doesn't even flinch. He thinks he's untouchable. But, just before you hit him, you swear you see a flicker of something cross his face. You don't know what it is. Surprise, maybe? And then his face is gone, and he's a pile of rags and meat beneath your wheels.
You loosen your grip on the throttle as you manoeuvre around the Super Shuttle, then the maintenance van. The lodge is only a minute or so away now, just round the next corner. The despair is gone. You're going to do this. You can do anything.
But you aren't going to make it there.
There are three of Them in the road. Fortunately, they're very absorbed in what they're doing, and you manage to turn the quad around before they even look in your direction.
As you turn, Jack's shouting in your ear, asking what you're doing, and you're glad, because that means he hasn't seen what you saw. You've seen a lot this weekend, and you'd have thought that after the first couple of incidents maybe you'd become immune to it, but you haven't. Blood never stops being shocking. Violence never stops being shocking. And when it involves little kids – well, that's the worst of all.
You don't want Jack to know what you saw in the road, not ever. Nobody's done a particularly good job of protecting Jack over the past couple of years. You'd quite like to start now.
You need to think fast. Where would be safest? But as you check off the options you realise that, actually, there's no choice. You could try another lodge, or head to the Waffle House, but how would Mum know where you'd gone? What if you couldn't find her again? There's no choice, really. You have to go back the way you came.
As you pass the pile of sludge that was once Dan II, you think for a moment about driving straight over it, but it seems a bit distasteful, so you slow the bike right down and weave your way around him, then the maintenance van, then the Super Shuttle, and along the empty road.
You turn off the main road, onto the footpath again, then stop.
"Why are we stopping?" Jack asks.
"I don't want to get too close," you say. "We'll wait here for Mum." You carefully turn the quad around, so it's pointing in the right direction for a quick exit, then cut the engine.
You wait. And you wait.
"Do you think Mum's already gone?" Jack asks.
You've been wondering the same thing. "I don't think so. Maybe she just waited a really long time to make sure we were out of the way."
"Shall we go and look?" You think about it. Should you [[go and check on Mum->Cut and run]] or [[stay put and wait->The waiting game]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@
<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Cut and run''@@
After a few minutes you can't take any more. "Wait here," you tell Jack. "I'll be back in a minute."
You hop down from the quad and jog up the footpath, stopping just before the open gate to the safari park. You can just about see Mum through the trees and brambles, but she hasn't heard you approaching. She's crouching on the floor, and a hole is beginning to gape in the fence where she's made a line of cuts, from the ground to about a metre up. As you watch, she begins to snip sideways, stopping for a moment after every few snips to shake out the tension in her wrist.
Now you can see a movement beyond the fence, as the lazy male lion stirs and stretches then, slowly, draws himself up onto his feet. He's staring at Mum as she continues cutting, a little further to the left, then back towards the ground again – snip a little, rest a little, snip a little – creating a huge, upside-down catflap. The lion takes a few paces closer to the fence. Now he's maybe five metres away. And now, for the first time, you notice another shape lying in the undergrowth a few metres beyond him.
You feel your heart beginning to speed up. It feels like Mum has been snipping at that wire all your life, and will go on snipping it for eternity. She's still only a third of the way down. Now halfway. The lion pads another step closer. Mum stops and shakes out her wrist again. Part of you wants to run for it, back to the quad, but you couldn't bear not knowing what's happening.
Suddenly the cut flap of fence flops down, opening up a doorway. Mum looks at it for a moment, then flings the bolt cutters to the ground and runs towards her quad.
You turn and run too, back to Jack. You can hear Mum behind you, yelling at the lions. "Come on then!" she shouts. "Come on!"
You risk a look back and see the shape in the undergrowth behind the male lion start to shift, and then split in half, as two lionesses rise to their feet. They move slowly, oozing confidence, on those soft feet, until they're standing next to their friend.
You've seen enough. Now you focus all your attention on that path as you pick your way along, back towards Jack.
"Come on then!" you hear Mum shout again. "Come on kitty-kitty! Meals on wheels!" You hear her start her engine.
You reach the quad and Jack hops down for a moment to allow you to get on in front. You take one last glance behind you, and see the surprise on Mum's face at seeing you there.
You're just thinking that she'll have to circle back because the lions definitely aren't coming, when you see a flash of yellowish fur, as a lioness leaps into sight, her paws skimming the back of Mum's quad. There's no time to think, only to react, as you squeeze the throttle, Jack's hands grabbing your waist just in time to stop himself falling backwards. He squeals down your ear, really loud.
You're glad of the adrenaline racing round your body now. That slow-motion effect that made watching Mum cut through the fence so unbearable now makes it easier to pilot the quad back to the road. It doesn't even feel like you're going all that fast, although you're holding the throttle nearly all the way in.
This time you turn in the opposite direction to the lodge, heading towards the Pleasure Dome. It's got food, water and shelter, and you remember the way everyone came running out of there when the zombies attacked. It'll probably be deserted.
You don't dare to look back again – you can't afford to waste even a moment's attention, but you can hear Mum close behind you.
"What are you doing here?" she shouts.
"Can't get to the lodge," you yell back. "[[Not safe->Faster, pussycat]]."
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The waiting game''@@
You shake your head. "No, let's stay here. Mum won't want us to put ourselves in danger, and we'd only be in the way."
And so you wait. "How long will she be?" Jack asks.
"How should I know?" you snap, then instantly feel guilty. "Sorry," you say more softly. "I don't know any more than you."
You wait in silence, until it feels like you've been waiting there your whole life, and will go on waiting for eternity. Everything before, all your memories, are just a dream, and this is a dream too.
But then you hear the sound of a quad engine coming to life, and it's time to wake up. You can hear Mum's voice too, yelling at the lions: "Come on then! Come on kitty-kitty! Meals on wheels!"
You start your engine. A moment later Mum's in sight, and you see the shock and surprise on her face as she catches sight of you.
You're just thinking that she'll have to circle back because the lions definitely aren't coming, when you see a flash of yellowish fur, as a lioness leaps into sight, her paws skimming the back of Mum's quad. There's no time to think, only to react, as you squeeze the throttle, Jack's hands grabbing your waist just in time to stop himself falling backwards. He squeals down your ear, really loud.
You're glad of the adrenaline racing round your body now. That slow-motion effect that made waiting for Mum so unbearable now makes it easier to pilot the quad back to the road. It doesn't even feel like you're going all that fast, although you're holding the throttle nearly all the way in.
This time you turn in the opposite direction to the lodge, heading towards the Pleasure Dome. It's got food, water and shelter, and you remember the way everyone came running out of there when the zombies attacked. It'll probably be deserted.
You don't dare to look back again – you can't afford to waste even a moment's attention, but you can hear Mum close behind you.
"What are you doing here?" she shouts.
"Can't get to the lodge," you yell back. "[[Not safe->Faster, pussycat]]."
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Faster, pussycat''@@
You sense that you're pulling away from the lioness, and when you dare to glance over your shoulder you see that you're right: there's at least ten metres between Mum and her. You see, too, that the rest of her pride have followed, the other female and the male right behind her.
You turn your gaze forward again. In front of you, sitting on a fallen tree at the side of the road, are three of Them, two men in baggy swimming shorts and a woman in a bikini with a bright pattern of tropical flowers. They don't react at all as you pass, still accelerating hard as the road begins to climb steeply uphill.
You know this is the moment of truth; the point when you find out whether you've pulled off a brilliant plan or made your situation much worse – three killer lions' worth of worse, to be precise. You count to five, then look over your shoulder again. Yes! The lions are no longer chasing you. Instead, each is huddled over something on the road, shaking its head violently from side to side as it rips at it with its teeth. You actually laugh out loud as you release your grip on the throttle and slow the quad down a little. There's no need to hurry now.
Mum overtakes you, leading the way along the left-hand fork in the road, towards the Pleasure Dome. You're just making the turn yourself when Jack screams, right down your ear. "Lions!"
You don't bother to look over your shoulder. It's not as if you need to check. You squeeze the throttle again, following Mum as the road dips back down the other side of the hill you just climbed. A moment later you can't resist, though, and glance backwards. The three lions have cut the corner, tearing across the scrubby verge, and are chasing you down the hill.
"Don't panic," Mum shouts. "They can't catch us. They'll slow down soon."
You force yourself to wait a few more seconds before turning back again to check. She's right. The distance between you is growing as you follow the undulating road towards the Pleasure Dome.
You hit a short uphill stretch, and squeeze the throttle slightly to maintain your speed. Instead, you begin to slow, so you squeeze harder, but still you slow, until eventually the quad stops completely and then begins to roll backwards. You squeeze the brake.
"Don't stop!" Jack yells in your ear.
"I didn't."
You press the red button to start the quad again, but nothing happens. By now Mum has stopped, a few metres ahead of you. "What's the matter?" she yells.
"It won't start!"
You press the button again, and again, but already you know it's pointless, because already your eye has flicked towards the fuel gauge. The little needle is pointing a couple of millimetres below empty.
There's no time to consider the options. In a flash, you know, instantly and completely, that there's only one possible course of action that doesn't end with the three of you becoming cat food, so that's the one you take.
"Get off the bike!" you yell at Jack. He's too shocked and confused to argue. "Go with Mum." You give him a little push in the right direction, then watch him sprint towards her quad and hop on.
Mum realises straight away what you're thinking, because there certainly isn't room on her quad for three. "Take my bike!" she shouts. "I'll do it!"
But you both knew there isn't time to be messing about, climbing on and off bikes, and you're already sprinting, past Mum and Jack, and on towards the Dome, resisting the urge to look over your shoulder. You remember the words of your running coach: "When you look back, that's when they catch you."
Mum starts her quad, overtaking you a second later. "Just get to the Dome," she shouts.
<<if visited("Eat, slay, move")>>
You sprint, [[harder than you've ever run before->Running scared]].
<<else>>
You sprint, [[harder than you've ever run before->The final sprint]]
<<endif>>
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Dome sweet dome''@@
You, Mum and Jack stand there for a moment in what can only be described as a group hug. Your breathing's almost back to normal now. You must smell pretty bad, but nobody seems to care.
Then Mum looks over your shoulder, and her face falls. "Jesus Christ."
You whirl around, and the clattering noises you've been vaguely aware of for the last few minutes suddenly make sense. On the far side of the Pleasure Dome's spacious foyer is the Hollywood Megabowl, and it's still open for business.
You take a few steps closer. There are about a dozen lanes, and at the end of each stands a cluster of zombies. Some look like families, some are couples, one is a gang of young women, centered around a girl wearing a veil dotted with L-plates: a hen party. All wear those silly red-and-white lace-up bowling shoes. The only things missing are the usual shouts of celebration or commiseration - it seems that zombies take their bowling very seriously. The only sounds are the thundering roll of the balls, the clatter as they knock down the pins, and the whirring of the machines as they right them again.
The three of you stand there, watching, for a moment. It's kind of hypnotic – the slow roll of the balls, and the way that the pins are tidied up each time, so neatly.
"I suppose if they were coming after us, they'd be over here by now," Mum says, her thoughts echoing your own.
The entrance to the Megabowl is through another set of large automatic doors. "I'm going to lock the doors anyway," you say. "Just to be on the safe side."
You walk, slowly and steadily, across the foyer. No sudden movements. Next door to the Hollywood Megabowl is Vegas Nights, the rather optimistically named room of one-armed bandits and Penny Falls machines. As you approach, you see three zombies, standing at the Penny Falls, mechanically plugging coin after coin into the slots. There are two women and a man, older than any you've encountered before. It's funny how easily you can tell someone's age, even when they don't have enough skin left on their face to have to worry about the seven signs of ageing. Judging by their clothes, and the women's neat perms, you guess they're in their seventies. You'll deal with them in a minute.
You find the control panel for the sliding doors. One of the buttons has a red picture of a key on it. Bingo. You press the button.
"Look out!"
Mum's shout makes you spin round, just as the doors to Vegas Nights slide open. The three figures that emerge might be old, but their age doesn't affect the speed they can move, as they stride towards you, arms outstretched. Instinctively, you turn to run, but go straight into the doors you just locked, banging your shoulder hard and then losing your balance completely and falling to the floor.
They're standing over you now, the three of them slowly leaning in, as if it hurts their stiff backs to do so. You've battled zombies on quad bikes, zombies with paintball guns – for God's sake, you just outran three hungry lions – and now here you are, about to be killed, in front of your Mum, by three elderly gambling addicts.
Do you have the energy left to [[fight for your life->Fight with the living dead]]? Perhaps you could scramble to your feet and [[try to run->Finding your feet]]? Or are you too exhausted to do anything but [[accept your fate->This is the end]]?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Fight with the living dead''@@
You close your eyes. Then you immediately open them, because there's no way you're going down without a fight. You form your hands into fists, then remember that your thumb's meant to go on the outside and try it again. At least you'll [[get the first punch in->Pennies from heaven]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Finding your feet''@@
You close your eyes. Then you immediately open them again, because there's no way you're just going to lie there and accept this. You pull yourself upright and manage to push one of the women away from you, but the other woman and the man each grab hold of one of your arms. You struggle, but their grip is too tight. It seems [[your luck has finally run out->Pennies from heaven]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Pennies from heaven''@@
And then you hear the most beautiful sound you've ever heard: the sound of capitalism. A cascade of coins drops from one of the Penny Falls machines, and the tinkling sends all three zombies skittering back into Vegas Nights.
As the automatic door slides shut behind them, you scramble across and press the button with the red key, then step back, onto Mum's foot. She was coming to save you. She squeezes you tight, and you stand there hugging for a moment, until your stomach does the loudest rumble you've ever heard.
"Dinner time!" Mum says, laughing, and links her arm into yours, before scooping up Jack's arm too and leading the way up the stairs.
At the top of the staircase is World of Food, the resort's supermarket. The lights inside are off, but you can still see the aisles of doughnuts and muffins and sandwiches. You push on the door. Locked. You hammer on it with both fists. "Give me some bastard dinner!"
Obviously you're not expecting that tactic to work, and you look around for something you can use to break the door open. You're eyeing up a large terracotta plant pot with a yucca in it when Mum points into the shop. "There's someone in there."
She's right. Out of the darkness, someone is creeping towards the door. Mum pushes you and Jack behind her. "When I tell you, run."
As the figure draws closer, you see he's wearing the familiar turquoise sweatshirt. He moves towards the door with a slow, painful-looking shuffle, and you're tense now, ready to run for it at any moment. But this isn't the shuffle of one of Them – this is the hesitant movement of a broken man. There's dirt smeared across his cheek, one leg of his trousers is ripped, and the neck of his sweatshirt looks stretched and loose, as if someone has grabbed at it. There's a smear of what looks like blood on his arm too. But this is still a human; a broken and battered human, but a human nonetheless.
"It's OK," you tell the others, stepping out from behind Mum. "It's not one of Them."
He comes up to the glass and stares at you.
"Let us in!" you tell him. "We're starving."
He looks closely at each of you in turn. "Did they get you?" he shouts through the door.
"No." You all take a step closer to the glass so he can see you properly.
"See. We're OK," Mum says.
"Is there anyone else there?"
You all make an exaggerated show of looking around. "No, definitely not," Mum says finally. "We locked them all in the bowling alley and the arcade downstairs."
Eventually, the man turns the key in the lock and you're inside. He locks the door again behind you.
"I didn't think there was anyone else left," he says.
"Well, here we are!" Mum says brightly. "I'm Lydia, by the way."
She offers her hand. The man stares blankly at it for a moment, before seemingly remembering what to do and touching his own hand to Mum's, standing there passively as Mum shakes it.
"Mum, can I have a doughnut?" Jack is already poised, one hand hovering over the display.
"OK, but I want you to eat something proper too."
You and Jack each grab a Mocha-Chocha Delight and shove it into your mouths. Ah, lovely, lovely carbs. The perfect fuel source for any kind of ongoing crisis situation. After a few seconds' hesitation, Mum does the same.
"Come on, let's see what we can find for dinner," Mum says, grabbing a second doughnut as she strides off down the aisle, Jack following close behind.
"How long have you been hiding in here?" you ask the man.
It takes him a moment to react. He looks completely dazed, like he's had a bang on the head and hasn't quite recovered yet.
"I got here just before you. I've been hiding in the manager's office upstairs. I just came out to get something to eat. I was thinking about trying to get out of Paradise Grove, but when I looked out of the window–" His eyes widen. "There's lions out there! Lions!" He whispers the word "lions", as if saying it out loud might summon Aslan to appear in the booze aisle.
"Yeah, I know." You shrug. Probably best not to mention that you let them in.
"So, anyway," you say eventually, breaking the silence. "I need to go and find something proper to eat."
The man doesn't reply. You shuffle awkwardly down the aisle, [[away from him->Buy one get one free]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Buy one get one free''@@
"Mum! Muuuuum! Oww! It hurts!"
Jack's screaming at the top of his voice, but Mum isn’t even turning round. "Knock it off, kids," she mutters, still scanning the shelves, trying to decide what to get for dinner.
"Muuuum! My hair!" This time Jack's scream is shrill enough to get a reaction.
"For God's sake, this is no time to be bickering."
"Mum!" you shout indignantly, running towards Jack, "It's not me!"
That gets her attention. She finally turns away from the shelves, to see Jack, his face distorted with anger and fear as he kicks frantically at the shins of a young woman a good head taller than him. She's wearing the standard-issue turquoise sweatshirt, and her badge tells you that her name is Carrie and asks what she can do to help you today.
As you sprint the half-dozen steps towards them, you think that firstly she could let go of your brother's hair, and secondly she could stop trying to sink her sharp, yellowish teeth into his neck. //I'd give you an extra star on Tripadvisor for that, Carrie.//
You spread your arms out to the sides and roar like an animal. You figure it might freak her out; scare her off.
Carrie turns to look at you. Her pale skin is covered in blotchy purple marks and spots of blood, but underneath you can see poor Carrie's terrible acne, back from when she was human. Her eyes are bloodshot, with that strange greenish tinge to the whites, and she bares her teeth and growls at you, like a dog warning you not to touch its bone.
You watch over Carrie's shoulder as Mum creeps up behind her and raises her hand high above her head. Then she brings it down, and the glass jar of pasta sauce she's holding shatters against Carrie's skull, splattering all four of you in tomato sauce, shards of glass and lumps of rotting flesh. Carrie moans and let go of Jack as she raises her hands to the back of her head, poking her fingers into the hole. Then she shakes herself like a dog, flicking lumps of pepper and mushroom in all directions, before turning and walking ponderously towards Mum.
Next to you is a display of bottles of beer on special offer. You pick one up and throw it, like a dart, towards Carrie's head. It sails straight past her and smashes on the floor. It does make her turn round though, and your second shot is a perfect bullseye – or rather zombie's eye – as the neck of the bottle sinks into her putrid eye socket. Carrie puts her hands to her face, poking about as if trying to work out what's happened. Meanwhile, Mum sprints over and picks up a bottle herself. This one hits Carrie square in the jaw, knocking most of the bottom of her face clean off. It hits the floor with a damp thwack, like a large spoonful of mashed potato.
You throw a fourth bottle, which hits her in the stomach, knocking her backwards and doubling her over, as it sinks into her puppy-fat belly. The fifth is another miss - right over her head – but the sixth, thrown by Mum, is a direct hit on the top of what remains of her skull, splattering most of it across the shop floor. What's left of Carrie slumps over backwards, little lumps of flesh ricocheting back upwards as she thuds to the ground.
Mum pulls a tissue out of her pocket and starts wiping the tomato sauce off Jack's face. "You alright?"
Jack nods. "Yeah. You?"
"Yeah." She picks up the basket of shopping. "Don't think I fancy pasta now though."
"Can I have a Pot Noodle?" asks Jack.
Mum sighs. "Alright then. I suppose we're on holiday. Stick it in the basket."
You fill two baskets with bread, cheese, crisps, instant noodles – basically, all the carbs you can get your hands on – and, stepping carefully around what's left of Carrie, make your way to the front of the shop.
The man in the Paradise Grove uniform is standing behind one of the tills. "What the-?" you hear Mum mutter behind you.
"Language," Jack berates her.
"Is he seriously expecting us to pay?" you ask. "Have you even got any money?"
"I've got my cards," Mum replies. "But, seriously?"
She calls over to the man, "Erm, excuse me, do you not think under the circumstances, you know, as a goodwill gesture..."
The man doesn't react. Now it's your turn to swear, as you start heaping the food onto the conveyor belt. "Seriously, under the circumstances, do you not think you could do us a bloody favour and – oh shit."
Because you've just realised why he's standing at the till as if nothing untoward is going on. You've realised why he didn't react when you spoke to him, and could barely remember how to shake hands, and didn't tell you his name. He doesn't know his name, because this isn't him any more. His flesh isn't yet rotting and falling off, but the whites of his eyes are yellow-green, and that blank expression is unmistakable.
"Mum," you say, quietly and very slowly, "Do you think that perhaps-"
"I think it's best," she says, equally slowly and carefully, never taking her eyes off the man, "if I pay this nice man here and then we can all go and leave him in peace. Why don't you help me pack? Jack, you go and wait by the door, out of the way." He scurries away. "Slowly! Nice and sensibly. No running in the shop. Let's not do anything sudden."
You keep your eyes on the man as you unload the rest of the food. When he finishes scanning all the items, he still doesn't say a word, but just holds out his hand for the money.
Mum pushes her credit card into the machine. The man doesn't move, so a moment later she removes the card again. "Thanks very much," she says cheerfully. "See you later. Bye."
And then you're shoving the food into bags, picking them up and walking, as briskly as you dare, to the door. Then Mum's unlocking it – thank goodness the keys are still in the lock – and you're out. You run towards the stairs that lead up to the next floor. "Jack – this way!" you yell, grabbing his hoodie.
Mum lags behind for a moment, and you realise that she's taken the keys and is now locking the door from the outside. It's a good job too, as the man inside has finally come out from behind the till and is hammering on the door with his fists, moaning and wailing.
"Am I imagining it," you ask Mum, "Or do those moans sound like, 'Stop thief'?"
"You're not imagining it. He's got a point too. The screen on the credit-card thing was blank, and I never put my PIN in."
"I guess Carrie must have got to him right before we arrived."
"I suppose so."
You run up the stairs. Up here are two more shops, [[Mrs Treacle's Olde Sweete Shoppe->Life is sweet]] and [[Let's Get Physical->Night swimming]], purveyors of ridiculously expensive designer sportswear. Where will you go first?
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Night swimming''@@
You learned your lesson well in World of Food, and once you're inside Let's Get Physical the first thing you do is tour the shop, checking in between the stands of clothes, behind the till, and in the tiny kitchenette and bathroom in the back, before Mum locks the door.
After washing your hands, you all slump down on a pile of yoga mats and unpack your feast, stuffing yourselves with Pot Noodles and cheese-and-crisp sandwiches, washing them down with cola and then finishing it all off with yet more doughnuts. The rush of sugar feels so good. "I wish I'd got some apples though," Mum complains. "I haven't had a vegetable in God knows how long."
"You could always go back and get some," you say.
"No thanks. I'll live."
<<if visited("Life is sweet")>>
You dig around in your pick-and-mix. "I've got some of those foam bananas in here somewhere." Mum laughs.
<<else>>
"Mum, can I have pudding?" Jack asks.
"Pudding! What do you think those doughnuts were?"
"But on Friday you promised we could get pick-and-mix. And we never got any."
You and Mum and laugh in exasperation.
"Do you know what?" Mum says, "Some jelly babies and pink mice would round off my meal very nicely." She jumps to her feet. "If Mr Jack wants pick-and-mix, Mr Jack shall have pick-and-mix."
She leads the way out of the sports shop and across to Mrs Treacle's Olde Sweete Shoppe. The door is propped open, so you stride straight in like you own the place. There's no zombies here, just shelves and shelves of sweeties. You each grab a paper cup and fill it to the brim with strawberry laces, fizzy sherbet things, fudge and toffees. Jack's cup is so full that he leaves a little trail of Smarties as you wander back towards Let's Get Physical. At the last minute you remember something, and dart back to pick up a box of biscuits emblazoned with the legend "Thanks for looking after our cat" for Mrs Next Door.
<<endif>>
Once you've all had your fill, you lie there on the pile of yoga mats. You think you're getting your second wind now. Or possibly your third.
Mum clearly feels the same, because she suddenly jumps to her feet and starts browsing the rails of sports clothes, then chucks a handful of swimming costumes at you and Jack. "Come on!"
You just look at her.
"Come on! You wanted a swim!"
"What?"
"You heard! We came here to have a family holiday and we are going to have a flippin' family holiday!"
"I suppose we could go to the pool and have a look," you say, unsure but coming round to the idea.
"There's no bad people here. We'd have seen them by now. They're all locked in. Come on."
You each shove a swimming costume and a towel into a sports bag and head out, setting off the shop's alarm as you do so. "Tags," Mum explains.
From the first-floor balcony you can see right out across the Mediterranean Water World. There's nobody and nothing there. Unlike the outdoor pool, this one has not so much as a floating Elastoplast to mar your quality family time.
The changing rooms are clear too, and five minutes later you're all bobbing around in the pool. You might not exactly be feeling relaxed, but you're not actively grinding your teeth any more. You hang out near the shallow end for a bit, then venture a little deeper. Mum grabs an inflatable ball from the poolside shop – thieving again! – and you pass it round and round for a while before heading for the hot whirlpool. After 10 minutes of fart jokes, it's back to the changing rooms to dry off.
"What now?" Jack asks.
"Back to the sports shop," Mum says. "We can lock the door and bed down for the night on the yoga mats."
And that's what you do. Your clothes are pretty disgusting, so you each chose a new outfit from the rails, then remove the security tags using the little magnet behind the till. Brightly patterned yoga leggings and a £40 T-shirt aren't your usual look, but they're comfy and they'll do for now.
Then you lay three yoga mats out in a row, with towels for blankets and bundled up sweatshirts for pillows, turn off the lights and snuggle yourselves down, Mum in the middle, with you and Jack cuddled up on either side.
"Mum?" Jack whispers.
"What is it, love?"
"That was really fun, in the pool. Can we do it again tomorrow?"
"I don't know, love. We'll have to see what happens," Mum says. "We were meant to be going home tomorrow," she goes on, more quietly.
"Can we get pick-and-mix again?"
"Maybe."
"Awesome! You're the best mum ever. Night night."
"[[Night night->The morning after]]."
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Life is sweet''@@
"Pick-and-mix!" you and Jack exclaim simultaneously.
"You did promise we could get some," Jack reminds Mum, and she laughs.
"Alrighty then," she says. "If Mr Jack wants pick-and-mix, Mr Jack shall have pick-and-mix."
The door is propped open, so you stride straight in like you own the place. There's no zombies here, just shelves and shelves of sweeties. You each grab a paper cup and fill it to the brim with strawberry laces, fizzy sherbet things, fudge and toffees. Jack's cup is so full that, as you wander towards Let's Get Physical, he leaves a little trail of Smarties behind him. At the last minute you remember something, and dart back to pick up a box of biscuits emblazoned with the legend "Thanks for looking after our cat" for Mrs Next Door. Then you follow them into [[Let's Get Physical->Night swimming]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The morning after''@@
You're dreaming about the window cleaner again; dreaming that you open the curtain and there she is, squirting and rubbing. Then she starts banging on the window, hard, over and over again, like she wants to be let in. That's when you wake up. You open your eyes and remember where you are – not in the lodge, not in your bed back home, but lying on a yoga mat in Let's Get Physical.
Then you realise that the banging sound isn't just in your dream, but that someone is knocking insistently on the shop door. You sit up quickly, at the same moment that Mum does the same.
"Open the door!" a voice shouts. "Security!"
You struggle to your feet, unwrapping the towel that you were using as a blanket from its tangle around your legs, and stagger to the door, squinting out at the man who shouted. He's wearing a security guard's uniform, but a different one to the usual Paradise Grove staff. This one is black, and has a reinforced panel over the chest. He also wears a black helmet, with a clear visor to protect his face. There's another guard next to him, dressed the same, and a man in a grey suit stands behind them both.
"Open the door please," the smartly-dressed man says. "The danger is over. It's quite safe."
Well, they certainly aren't zombies. You unlock the door and let them in, realising as you do so that the man in the suit is the manager you've seen before, in the Pleasure Dome on your first night, and then riding around in that little buggy while the carpark turned into a scene from a horror movie.
The three of them look around Let's Get Physical, and you're suddenly embarrassed by the food wrappers and manky clothes that litter the floor.
"OK," the manager says slowly. He nods to one of the security guards, who steps out of the shop. You can hear him talking into his radio outside.
"Well, you're free to leave," the manager says. "We'll deal with this." He gestures at the piles of mess. "You can keep the clothes as a goodwill gesture."
Then his manner changes, as if he's gone off-script but now is remembering his lines. "Paradise Grove would like to extend our sincere apologies for the disruption to your break caused by the outbreak of illness. We believe the cause to be an extremely virulent form of avian flu, combined with the winter norovirus. Although we pride ourselves on our excellent health-and-safety record, such events are occasionally beyond our control. According to the terms and conditions of your booking, you are entitled to a full refund or a replacement holiday of a value equal to or less than your break, if more than 30% of the Paradise Grove facilities are unavailable during your break. We will therefore be writing to all customers within 28 working days, and at this time you will be able to state your preference. Now, since check-out time passed 20 minutes ago, we would be grateful if you would proceed to your vehicle and then make your way to the exit as quickly as possible. As a further goodwill gesture, your personal belongings have been removed from your lodge by Paradise Grove's dedicated cleaning staff, who will meet you at your vehicle. Once again, we apologise for the disruption to your break."
You don't really know what to say to that. You just look at Mum, still sitting there on her yoga mat, her eyes puffy and her hair standing on end. She helps Jack up, and you scrabble for your shoes. You pick up Mrs Next Door's biscuits and walk in silence to the door, then out into the main mall and down the stairs. You realise that the two security guards are following you, a few steps behind.
As you pass the Hollywood Megabowl you see that the doors are open again. The neon lights are still burning, but there's nobody bowling now. A maid is mopping the shiny wooden area in front of the lanes, while another hoovers the carpeted bar area. The door to Vegas Nights is closed. You can't see anyone inside.
The automatic doors sweep open as you reach the exit, and then you're outside in the cool air. You begin to wish you'd grabbed yourself a nice new jacket. The guards are still just a couple of metres behind you, and perhaps that's why none you says a word as you follow the footpath out towards the carpark.
There's no sign of Amy or her quad bike; no sign of the wrecked bicycles or their riders. You look into and through the trees – those trees you hid among when everything first went so bad. Now there's no car alarms, no glass smashing, and no screams, just an eerie silence, only broken by the tapping of your trainers, and the louder slapping of the guards' heavy leather boots.
You turn into the carpark. You don't know what exactly you were expecting to see, but it wasn't this. The carpark is empty. Well, near enough. There are perhaps five or six cars, in an area which you last saw filled with hundreds. All the broken glass is gone too. It's like none of it ever happened.
"Bloody hell," Mum mutters. "There must have been one hell of a clean-up operation overnight."
You want to shush her. You feel like the security guards won't want you talking, and you don't want to get told off. Across the carpark, you see your car, with one of the Paradise Grove maintenance vans parked up next to it. You could have sworn you left it much further down the road when you abandoned it and dived into the woods, but there it is, parked perfectly, lined up in the dead centre of the parking space.
"Do you still have the key?" you ask Mum.
She's already holding it, and dangles it in front of you in reply. As you approach, a man gets out of the maintenance van and walks around to the back, then begins pulling out bags. Your bags.
"Mrs Parkin?" he says. It isn't a question. "If you'd like to open up the boot, I'll get everything moved across for you."
So Mum unlocks the boot and you all stand there, watching, as the man carefully arranges the bags.
"Did you get the tablet?" Jack asks. "It was plugged in by the big window."
"Course we did, mate. I checked the lodge myself – we didn't leave anything behind."
You and Mum exchange glances. This is bizarre – the slick military efficiency, like they've done it all before.
The man shifts the last bag across. "Right – that's your lot," he says cheerfully, slamming the boot shut. "Have you returned your lodge key yet?"
Mum shakes her head.
"I'll take it for you now then. So you don't forget."
He holds out his hand, and Mum obediently rummages in her pocket for the key, then hands it to him.
"Drive safely now." And he climbs back into his van.
"Wait! Wait a minute," you call after him. "Nobody's told us anything. What actually happened? Those people..."
The man just smiles again. "Avian flu, plus norovirus. Nasty business. Bye now." And he drives off, leaving the three of you standing there watching him.
Mum sighs and opens the door, gesturing to you to get in, and a moment later you're driving slowly around the carpark, obeying the one-way system, heading for the exit. You remember the last time you came this way – all squealing tyres and slamming round corners. This time, you crawl along, Mum sticking strictly to the 10mph speed limit. You stare into the woods as you drive, still on high alert, but the only movement that catches your eye is a magpie taking flight from a bramble bush.
"Oh my God!" Mum exclaims.
"What is it?" You and Jack ask in stereo. There's a sudden heavy sick feeling in your stomach – how could you have been so stupid as to think it was all over?
"Look who's behind us," Mum answers.
You swivel in your seat to see that another car has caught you up. It's a tiny red car, filled with two men in the front and two in the back: your next-door neighbours. Jack waves at them, and the guy in the passenger seat raises an arm in return, smiling. You can't hear what he shouts, but you can read his lips, "See ya, zombie kid!"
"How did they...?" you begin.
"I have no idea," Mum replies.
As you approach the little security hut, you see that the barrier is down. There's a man inside, who smiles and waves, and then the barrier lifts. Mum drives forward, and for the first time you see the long queue of cars on the other side of the road, stretching out towards the entrance to Paradise Grove. As you pass the hut, you see the barrier on their side of the road raise, and the queue begins to crawl forward, as the new guests arrive for their perfect family getaway.
And then you're out. The sun is shining now, as you emerge out from under the shadow of the trees, leaving Paradise Grove behind you as you join the main road and drive on, faster now, heading for home.
@@font-size:1.5em;''THE END''@@
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Running scared''@@
Your legs whirl and you push your chest forward, opening up your lungs, powering yourself up the hill. Every coaching tip you've ever heard passes through your mind as you lift your head, kick your feet up behind you and keep your eyes fixed dead ahead.
You can hear the grunting breathing of the lions, and it's getting louder.
Mum and Jack are out of sight now, as they crest the hill and follow the path down, towards the Dome.
Now all that's in your head is one word: //Faster. Faster. Faster.// There's a burning sensation in your quads, but it isn't painful. It isn't going to slow you. Nothing is.
You reach the top of the hill and see the footpath to the Pleasure Dome laid out before you. You can't see Mum and Jack, and for a moment you panic, until you make out a dark shape behind the glass doors of the Dome. They must have driven straight in.
Now you're passing the outdoor pool. You stare straight ahead, focusing all your attention on the glass doors, but still out of the corner of your eye you're aware of unidentifiable lumpy objects bobbing around, circling the Lazy River, each one surrounded by its own pool of murky brown water.
Now you're on the last bit of footpath, heading down towards the Dome's entrance. The grunting and panting behind you is much louder now. You know that even a glance over your shoulder would slow you down and possibly even make you stumble so you keep your eyes focused on the doors and pull yourself towards them, your legs turning over at a crazy rate.
The doors slide open and you're inside. Mum is standing to the right of the doors, and you see her jab her finger at something – she's found the control panel. The doors slide shut, meeting in the middle a fraction of a second before the lioness' huge padded paws thump hard on the glass. The door shudders a little, but holds fast. Her friend – her sister, you suppose – jumps up at the glass too, but again it holds. Now the two females began to pace, backwards and forwards in front of the doors, while the male settles himself down for another nap.
You step back from the doors and bend over, your hands on your knees. A moment later the top of your head clunks against the tiled floor, and you roll slowly onto your side. You can hear Mum saying your name, and feel her hand on your back, but you can't see anything – everything's gone black.
"I'm going to be sick," you say. "Mind out of the way."
But you aren't sick. It's a good job, because Mum doesn't get out of the way at all. Instead she bends down and puts her arms around you in a tight hug. It doesn't help your breathing, but you don't mind.
A moment later, your vision has returned – as has the burning in your legs. It feels like there are angry bees buzzing around inside your thighs and calves, and a moment later you're back on your feet, shaking out one leg and then the other, pacing backwards and forwards in front of the doors to work off the cramps, like a reflection of the lionesses outside.
The two lionesses follow your every move, their heads swivelling from side to side, never taking their eyes off you. You suppose you should be glad that they're so keen to chase you. It means they're still hungry and, after all, that's why you brought them here. You wonder how long they were without food in that deserted safari park.
Suddenly, all three lions turn their heads away from the door and stand, frozen, listening intently. And then they're off, the two females bounding away back up the footpath, the male slowly finding his feet as if he had all the time in the world, before following them. They've found someone, or something, else [[to chase->Dome sweet dome]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''The final sprint''@@
Your legs whirl and you push your chest forward, opening up your lungs, powering yourself up the hill. Every coaching tip you've ever heard passes through your mind as you lift your head, kick your feet up behind you and keep your eyes fixed dead ahead.
You can hear the grunting breathing of the lions, and it's getting louder.
Mum and Jack are out of sight now, as they crest the hill and follow the path down, towards the Dome. Now all that's in your head is one word: "Faster. Faster. Faster."
There's a burning sensation in your quads, and it builds, step by step, as you heave yourself up the hill, until your legs start to feel heavy, even swollen. The top of the hill is just metres away now, but suddenly you're overcome with a wave of despair. This is stupid. You can't possibly make it.
You know this feeling; you've had it before, that time you forgot your lunch and tried to do cross-country training on an empty stomach. This is hitting the wall - when your body has no fuel left to burn. You're running on empty, just like the quad.
You reach the top of the hill and see the footpath to the Pleasure Dome laid out before you. It's all downhill now. But the heaviness in your legs isn't going away, and you're not recovering.
You will your legs to turn over faster, concentrating all your willpower on raising each knee; bringing each foot round to press against the tarmac. The breathing behind you is so close now that you can't help but glance over your shoulder.
You should have known better. Your toe scuffs against the tarmac, and you stumble, brushing a hand against the road and stopping yourself, just in time, from crashing to the ground.
You pull yourself straight back up, your vision blurring as everything goes black around the edges. It takes less than a second before you're running again, but it's a second too long. A soft weight hits your shoulder, pressing you down, onto the ground. Mercifully, it's your head that makes contact first, and everything fades to black as the lioness bends to take her first bite.
@@font-size:1.5em;''THE END''@@
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Wake up and smell the chlorine''@@
Your hearing returns before your sight. You know instinctively that the sound you can hear is Mum, even though you've never heard her make a noise like that before. You open your eyes and see her leaning over you. There are other faces, too, and other voices, all talking at once. You've vaguely aware that at least some of them are talking to you, but they're so loud and you're so very tired. You close your eyes again and listen disinterestedly to the chatter. Something about an open fracture, something about the ambulance that will be here soon, something about scans.
Suddenly it seems important to speak.
"What did she say?" Mum's voice asks. It sounds like she's gasping for breath. "What did she say?"
Repeating yourself seems like such an effort. Slowly, your eyes still closed, you form the words. "Sorry I spoiled the holiday, Mum."
@@font-size:1.5em;''THE END''@@
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''Once more with felines''@@
But a moment later you’re squeezing the brake again, as you see Mum’s quad in the road ahead. “Why aren’t you at the lodge?” you shout.
Mum shakes her head. “We can’t get there.”
“Why not.”
“The road's blocked.” She inclines her head towards Jack in a “not in front of the children” way.
“What do you mean?”
“It was blocked, okay? We can’t get past. Did you cut the fence?”
“Yeah, but they’re not following. What now?”
“I don’t see we’ve got any choice,” Mum says. “We can’t get to the lodge, I’m not going back to the Waffle House, and we can’t stay here in the street. That only leaves the Pleasure Dome.”
You suppose it makes sense. The Dome's got food, water and shelter, and you remember the way everyone came running out of there when the zombies attacked. It'll probably be deserted.
You turn your quad around and start heading slowly back the way you came.
As you pass the pile of sludge that was once Dan II, you think for a moment about driving straight over it, but it seems a bit distasteful, so you slow the bike right down and weave your way around him, then the maintenance van, then the Super Shuttle, and along the empty road. Mum’s riding next to you now. “So the lions weren’t interested?” she says.
“Nope. One of them was watching me, but when I opened up the fence they didn’t come out.”
“Did you try to entice them out?”
“What, like, ‘Here kitty-kitty’ or something?”
Mum shrugs. “It sounds silly when you say it like that.”
“I was too busy running for my life.”
“Fair enough.”
You’re just coming up to the footpath leading to the gate again and Mum suddenly stops her quad. “Jack, get off a minute.” She turns to you. “You take him. I’ll be back in a minute.” Before you can protest, Jack is obediently climbing on behind you, while Mum zooms off towards the gate.
A moment later you hear her yelling. "Come on then!" she shouts. “Come on kitty-kitty! Meals on wheels!"
Then she's driving back towards you. You're just thinking that she'll have to circle back because the lions definitely aren't coming, when you see a flash of yellowish fur, as a lioness leaps towards Mum, her paws skimming the back of the quad. There's no time to think, only to react, as you squeeze the throttle, Jack's hands grabbing your waist just in time to stop himself falling backwards. He squeals down your ear, [[really loud->Faster, pussycat]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
@@font-size:1.5em;''This is the end''@@
You close your eyes. For once there's no rush of adrenaline, no great plan. You just don't have it in you any more. You're not getting out of this one. You're scared, of course, of the pain, but mostly you just feel terribly, terribly disappointed. You'd allowed yourself to believe it was over; that you might actually get out of Paradise Grove. You really thought it might be OK. [[But it won't->Pennies from heaven]].
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@<img src="ParadiseGroveHeader.png" alt="Paradise Grove" />
<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote>@@font-size:1.5em;''[[Check in->The lion sleeps today]]''@@</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote>
@@font-size:0.5em;''© 2019 H Davies. All rights reserved. Zombie icons made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com.''@@