I Dream of Zombies Read Free Page B

thought you would support me.”
    Marla stood. “I do support you.”
    “But you don’t believe me?”
    “I believe that you believe it…”
    “That’s not the same thing!”
    Marla nodded. “I know. Maybe lie back down. Try to get some rest.”
    Ellen scowled. “Because that’s going to solve everything?” she asked. “I go back to sleep and that thing is waiting.”
    “I’m going to make some tea,” said Marla, walking away. “It’s five o’clock nearly, so let’s just get up. I’ll make a drink and you have a shower. I’m sorry. You’re my sister. I do support you.”
    “Coffee.”
    “What?”
    “Make mine a coffee,” Ellen replied. “Strong. ..”

Week 2
Sunday, 12
     
    A cold breeze snakes around her shoulders as she steps forwards, her feet making not a sound on the ground. The light is fading. A lone bulb swings from the ceiling, back and forth, back and forth, but the chain fails to creak. This still quiet looms while in the distance shadows play, running patterns around these old, decaying walls. Something lies there, silent, upon the rusting iron bed that fills the space between them.
    She creeps forwards, her tiptoes making no impact as though gliding through the air. Looking down she realises her feet are indeed walking. How surreal. The bed moves closer and its occupant shifts ever so slowly as she drifts, drawing nearer to where the shadows dance. Above her head the bulb continues to rock soundlessly, in time with her movements. She shivers as the air grows colder still.
    He is sleeping, this man. His face is fine, almost beautiful, and at peace, yet pale, so very pale, in stark contrast to the deep ebony of his hair. She can hear his breathing, low and regular. Opening his eyes, he looks at her and she smiles, watching his sensual lips curve upwards as he raises himself up. As she brushes her hair out of her sleepy eyes, his grin widens, welcoming, but the perfect white teeth stumble out one by one, floating through the air in slow motion like petals on the wind, sliding to the floor. They make not a sound. The blood rushes to her face as she feels a wave of nausea flood over her.
    The man’s eyes draw her in, but they too are different. White in colour, their irises erased, lain waste, and lines of red cross them. He smiles this rancid smile as bile slides out from between his cracking lips. It drips upon her hand, burning into the skin, searing, and she withdraws it quickly, but it remains there, stuck on top of the bed. Why doesn’t it move? She stares down at her skin, turning red from the liquid, the surface bubbling. A stinging pain spears through to her palm and fear overwhelms her senses.
    She turns to run. Heaving her body in the direction of the exit, she sprints wildly, not daring to look back. She feels the movement, slow but sure, like gliding through a thick fog. Yet her body is still there, standing by the bed as the thing gapes at her, his eyes fixed on her face, the mouth opening wider to reveal a black endless nothing. She screams, but its existence is crushed in the silence. Out of the corner of her eye she notices the tick-tock sway of the bulb flickering, and she senses she is doomed; knows it as surely as the fact that the heavy chain will swing again, unrelenting.
    His face moves closer, the skin beginning to flake like old paint turning away from a wall, the edges creeping up. Then it falls. Beneath, the muscles continue to move as he smiles. Blood oozes. Dread ravages her as fear caresses her body like fingers, icy cold and unforgiving. She turns again and races in panic towards the exit, yet she finds herself in the exact same place, her feet rooted to the ground like the trunk of a tree, her arms solid like branches. She imagines her hair as the leaves, blowing in the breath that he now turns on her, sickening in its putrid scent of death and decay. The maggots swarm across his bloodied face as he opens his mouth wider. The yawn seems to swallow her whole