Road Trip

Chapter 9

He stared into the blank, vacant eyes of his mother, who was trudging closer and closer. He could feel a lump rising in his throat and, try as he might, he couldn't choke it down.

Poppy pressed her back against Wolfe's, swinging her bat at any zombie within her range. Wolfe was using the fuckoffhammer to block the walkers, occasionally smashing them to a pulp when he got the chance.
"Is that David?" He pointed as he sent a small, fat zombie flying into a group of walkers. All of them fell to the ground, twitching.
Poppy nodded. "I think so. What's up with him?"
"Not sure, we should go check it out, come on." Wolfe wrapped one arm around Poppy, shielding her as they ran and he howled his hammer into every zombie he could.

"David!" Pill hollered as they neared him. "Shoot!"

David's face was sickly white, and the barrel of his gun was physically shaking now. "I can't..." He croaked, not tearing his eyes from his mother.

"Just do it!" Wolfe shouted, but he knew immediately that was a mistake. His bellow seemed to catch the attention of every zombie near them, and they all turned to stare at him with their eerie, white eyes.

Wolfe and Poppy sprung into action, clouting away any zombie that came near them, as David stood motionless, watching his mother stamp away from him towards the couple.

Wolfe and Poppy stood with their backs to David, who still remained motionless, his gun still pointed at his mother, who was gaining on Poppy and Wolfe.

In the blink of an eye, David's mother had leapt onto Wolfe's back and was scrabbling at him, making a horrible, feral hissing sound.

Poppy shrieked as Wolfe tried to throw off the growling zombie, and David's daze snapped away. He scrunched his eyes shut and pulled the trigger, almost falling over in the process.

Wolfe was covered in blood. His entire back was drenched in the dark red liquid, and he didn't move a muscle. The zombie that was clutching at his shoulders loosened its grip and slipped to the ground.

"Wolfie!" Poppy breathed, dropping her bat to the floor to hug him. "Are you alright? Did it bite you?"
Wolfe shook his head. "I don't think so. Just gave me a shock that's all." He hugged her back, squeezing her tightly, before turning to David. "Thanks. I... I was in a spot of bother there."

David staggered over to them, the rifle clutched loosely in his hand.
"You saved my Wolfie's life!" Poppy ran over to him and flung her good arm around him. "Thankyou!"
David's face was still sickly white.
"Are you alright? You don't look too good." Wolfe walked over, dragging his hammer behind him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.
David nodded, then shook his head, then shrugged. "I don't know. I think that was my mum." His voice was a hoarse croak.

Wolfe pinched in his cheeks, unsure of what to say.
"You did the right thing." Poppy stepped back, releasing him from his hug.
"I know it's just..." His voice trailed off and he dropped the gun to the ground with a clatter.

No one said anything. The noise of the battle seemed to die down as the last few zombies fell to the ground, but there were no shouts of victory. It was quiet.

"Maria!" Poppy span round at the sound of her fathers voice. He carried a serrated Bowie knife and he was covered in dark blood. His eyes had dark circles around them, as if he hadn't slept in months.
"Dad! What is it?"
"It's your mum..."

Poppy's mum had had plans to develop the camp into a healthy, thriving community with schools, farms, a hospital and an undefeatable zombie defence system. That could all still happen, but Sally would not  be there to see it.

Poppy said nothing as her father told her, only wept into Wolfe's chest. She'd been eaten by a crowd of the zombies, they'd mobbed her. There was nothing anyone could do. They had stripped her bones of everything, leaving only a skull and a few ribs.

"It happened very quickly." Tom murmured, but Poppy didn't seem to hear.

There was a funeral service the next day, and not one inhabitant of the camp didn't attend. Her bones were carried up to the top of the enormous hill behind the camp, along with the remains of two men who were killed also, in a mighty parade.

The camp's numbers had declined considerably, at least a third had been infected, but it still seemed overwhelmingly magnificent, a huge number of people trekking up a hill to pay their respects to three people. Most of these people had never even spoken to Sally, but she was renowned for her work in the camp.

Poppy didn't cry at the service. She didn't cry when people stood up and spoke about "this wonderful, inspirational Woman." She didn't cry when everyone sang her mother's favourite song, Champagne Supernova. she didn't even cry when Tilly stood up and sang a solo in a high, clear voice.

She did cry, when the man leading the service, an old, ex-vicar, stood up and mentioned the two men that had died alongside her mother.

"This service is also to remember Peter Grey and Will Tomas. They were two brave men who will be sorely missed by our community." There was not another word about them.

She said very little all through the day, until they left around midday.

"Promise you'll visit?" Tilly asked, pressing her cheek to Poppy's shoulder.
"Of course!" Poppy smiled and swallowed the lump in her throat.

Her father hugged her and kissed her on the forehead before she got in the van, but stopped Wolfe before he did. He rested his hand on Wolfe's shoulder and looked him deep in the eyes. "You look after my little girl, okay?"
Wolfe inhaled deeply and nodded. "I'm pretty sure she can look after herself."
"She's so like her mother." Tom smiled, broke into a stuttered laugh that trailed off into empty silence. "Don't let anything happen to her, promise me?"

Wolfe nodded solemnly, glancing at Poppy. She was sat with her cheek pressed against the window, staring into space.

Wolfe shook Tom's hand firmly and got into the van, clicking in the key. As the van chugged into life, Poppy snapped out of her daydream and waved at the camp, everyone had come to say their farewell.