parks when we cometo them. I thought suburbia would be a breeze after the narrow streets of the city, but we’re attacked far more frequently than we were on our way from Westminster to Hammersmith.
Fortunately there are rarely more than three or four zombies per group. They tend to gather in small packs here, making their base in what used to be family homes, rather than pile into a factory or warehousein their dozens. Vinyl laughs quietly when I mention that.
‘It must be a middle-class thing,’ he says. ‘The posh lot crave privacy, even in death. Don’t want to be mixing with the wrong sort of people.’
We have a good chuckle, but Vinyl is serious when I comment on the frequency of the attacks.
‘They’re hungrier than the zombies in the more central areas,’ he says. ‘Not so many peopleout here, therefore not so many corpses. There used to be more of the undead when I first started coming this way. A lot have moved on, either heading for the city centre or off to find richer pickings in the country. Those who’ve remained must be desperate. They’ll have a serious sniff at anything that passes, just in case.’
The attacks are more of a nuisance than a threat, though I’msure the survivors don’t see them that way. They tense every time a zombie lunges at us, follow each brief battle with wide, worried eyes. They’re sweating with fear, so they have to keep reapplying scent.
By early afternoon we’re marching through the countryside proper and the humans relax slightly. It’s a cloudy day, but the clouds keep breaking and letting the sun through in bursts.Nice for the humans, a pain for us. I want to put on my sunglasses, but only a few of us can wear them at a time. It would look suspicious if we all went marching around in matching shades—reviveds aren’t the sharpest tools in the box, but they’re not completely clueless.
We stop for lunch by a tree with plenty of shade, on a hill with a clear view of the open fields. The Angels don’t eat,but the living tuck into more of Emma’s sandwiches. They sit on the grass and treat this like a picnic, whispering away happily, washing down the food with water and fizzy drinks.
There are no zombies anywhere in sight, which frees us to pull out our sunglasses and put them on. The world comes into much sharper focus and my eyes stop stinging. I breathe a happy sigh and wish for the millionthtime since I revitalised that my eyelids still functioned.
The little girl, Liz, finishes eating before the adults and decides she wants to climb the tree. Shane checks it out first, scampering up the trunk like a squirrel with his extra sharp nails, to make sure there are no nasty surprises lying in store for her. When he gives her the all-clear, she clambers up and starts to play. Aftera while, she calls for Declan to join her, and though he resists at first, eventually he wanders across and lets Liz help pull him up.
I watch the kids playing together, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a nice warm feeling inside. But it’s nowhere near as warm as the sun when the clouds part. With a scowl I take off my hat to scratch my scalp, then squat beside Vinyl, who’s chewinga blade of grass and peering off into the distance, cool as you like. ‘How much further is this place?’ I ask.
‘We won’t get there today,’ he says. ‘There’s a safe house we use, a few hours down the road. We’ll rest there overnight, head off bright and early, should make New Kirkham before midday tomorrow.’
‘Aren’t there any compounds closer than that?’
He shrugs. ‘A few, but they’rerun by the army. We don’t have much to do with them.’
‘You’re not a fan of soldiers, are you?’ I note.
‘I don’t mind them,’ he says. ‘They’ve done a good job in lots of places, even if they tend to govern with an iron fist. But they rule the airwaves completely and crack down on anyone who doesn’t toe the line. And nobody ever found out how the zombie
Fortunately there are rarely more than three or four zombies per group. They tend to gather in small packs here, making their base in what used to be family homes, rather than pile into a factory or warehousein their dozens. Vinyl laughs quietly when I mention that.
‘It must be a middle-class thing,’ he says. ‘The posh lot crave privacy, even in death. Don’t want to be mixing with the wrong sort of people.’
We have a good chuckle, but Vinyl is serious when I comment on the frequency of the attacks.
‘They’re hungrier than the zombies in the more central areas,’ he says. ‘Not so many peopleout here, therefore not so many corpses. There used to be more of the undead when I first started coming this way. A lot have moved on, either heading for the city centre or off to find richer pickings in the country. Those who’ve remained must be desperate. They’ll have a serious sniff at anything that passes, just in case.’
The attacks are more of a nuisance than a threat, though I’msure the survivors don’t see them that way. They tense every time a zombie lunges at us, follow each brief battle with wide, worried eyes. They’re sweating with fear, so they have to keep reapplying scent.
By early afternoon we’re marching through the countryside proper and the humans relax slightly. It’s a cloudy day, but the clouds keep breaking and letting the sun through in bursts.Nice for the humans, a pain for us. I want to put on my sunglasses, but only a few of us can wear them at a time. It would look suspicious if we all went marching around in matching shades—reviveds aren’t the sharpest tools in the box, but they’re not completely clueless.
We stop for lunch by a tree with plenty of shade, on a hill with a clear view of the open fields. The Angels don’t eat,but the living tuck into more of Emma’s sandwiches. They sit on the grass and treat this like a picnic, whispering away happily, washing down the food with water and fizzy drinks.
There are no zombies anywhere in sight, which frees us to pull out our sunglasses and put them on. The world comes into much sharper focus and my eyes stop stinging. I breathe a happy sigh and wish for the millionthtime since I revitalised that my eyelids still functioned.
The little girl, Liz, finishes eating before the adults and decides she wants to climb the tree. Shane checks it out first, scampering up the trunk like a squirrel with his extra sharp nails, to make sure there are no nasty surprises lying in store for her. When he gives her the all-clear, she clambers up and starts to play. Aftera while, she calls for Declan to join her, and though he resists at first, eventually he wanders across and lets Liz help pull him up.
I watch the kids playing together, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a nice warm feeling inside. But it’s nowhere near as warm as the sun when the clouds part. With a scowl I take off my hat to scratch my scalp, then squat beside Vinyl, who’s chewinga blade of grass and peering off into the distance, cool as you like. ‘How much further is this place?’ I ask.
‘We won’t get there today,’ he says. ‘There’s a safe house we use, a few hours down the road. We’ll rest there overnight, head off bright and early, should make New Kirkham before midday tomorrow.’
‘Aren’t there any compounds closer than that?’
He shrugs. ‘A few, but they’rerun by the army. We don’t have much to do with them.’
‘You’re not a fan of soldiers, are you?’ I note.
‘I don’t mind them,’ he says. ‘They’ve done a good job in lots of places, even if they tend to govern with an iron fist. But they rule the airwaves completely and crack down on anyone who doesn’t toe the line. And nobody ever found out how the zombie
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