The Undead Day Twenty Read Free Page B

comes in closer, applying pressure on her side of the sheet. Blinky the same. Mo’s hands drop to grip ankles. Blowers lowers and aims the bottle as he drops his weight to open fire. Cookey gains the sensation of pressure first as the sheet is pressed over him. He feels the hands on his ankles and starts the journey up through the layers of sleep. Something comes down hard as water is sprayed in his face. He gasps and turns his head as water spurts up his nose, in his mouth and in his eyes. He tries to fight free but the room comes alive with the sound of giggling. In that split second he knows this is play and reacts accordingly. His ankles are held. His body covered. His face drenched. He sputters and yacks as the others burst out laughing. Cookey is strong though, he bucks to shift Blowers with a hand snatching out to grab the bottle of water. Charlie dives in, pinning the arm into Cookey’s chest while giggling like mad. Cookey snorts and turns his head while bucking to get his legs free as Mo lunges in to apply his body weight. Cookey’s other hand gets free and makes a desperate grab for the bottle as Blowers tries to hold his balance. Cookey gains the bottle and squeezes the plastic sides, sending a jet of water out into Blinky’s face. Charlie spots another lying in arms reach and wriggles to get more ammunition. Blowers and Cookey battle over the bottle, laughing and giggling like schoolchildren. Cookey gets the aim and squeezes but Blowers is fast and dodges the incoming strike that swooshes past into Mo who tries to duck and cover. Charlie gets the other bottle and turns to spray into the side of Cookey’s head. He sputters and turns to see Charlie laughing so hard the bottle wavers in aim.
    Dave stands in the doorway watching. His face impassive. His whole bearing revealing nothing as he watches Cookey fighting valiantly but unable to defend all sides without taking hits. Dave watches Blinky grab Cookey’s free arm and Mo shifting up to add weight with Blowers on Cookey’s mid-section. He watches Charlie take aim and fire and Cookey sputtering to spray water from his mouth while laughing hard.
    Dave doesn’t understand finer social skills but this is not fine social skills. This is overtly play. He understands and his deft touch, he bends down to grab a bottle, aims and fires into the battle.
    Dave firing anything is perfection of movement with head strikes gained. Water hits Blowers first who gasps and turns in shock to get another spurt. Blinky is next, a twitch of aim and Mo is given a blast, another twitch and Charlie is soaked. They all sputter in shock, buying a second for Cookey to get a hand free and fight back.
    ‘Thanks, Dave,’ Cookey gasps between laughing.
    *
    She comes awake to the sound of laughter and like a mother the reaction within her is two-fold. The sound is lovely and represents play in a world where everything else has gone to shit. The other side of her wonders what they are up. There is a lure too. A weird feeling that makes her want to go down and join in with whatever they are doing, or just to watch with a coffee.
    Instead, she stares at the ceiling then over to the window. The dawn is just pushing the night away. A battle of perpetual motion that will always play out. The night chases the day that chases the night. A world that turns. A planet that spins in orbit within a scale of such size it renders anything done on the surface as utterly meaningless.
    Ah but it is a new day in the new world and as nihilistic as it all may seem she still blows air out through her cheeks and wishes it wasn’t so bloody hot. A sheen of sweat covers her skin. Strands of hair lie plastered to her scalp and forehead. She glances at Roy lying on his side and pulls a thoughtful face that holds for a few long seconds before she decides the pressing on her bladder is taking priority over anything else.
    She rises in bra and knickers to tread softly to the door and feels the trickle of sweat rolling