The Zombie Apocalypse with MCR (Complete)

Deep Sleep

Summer, 2008

As soon as I climb the steps of the bus, with Pandora on my heels and walking at a snail's pace, Alissa is on my back.

"How's the search? Did you find anything?" She demands, eyebrows up expectantly.

"How are you?" Frank says pointedly, already on his feet and reaching to help take my backpack off. "Any injuries?"

I offer a wane, tired smile. "Nothing that needs a nurse, thank you."

He nods and stores my gear away, looking relieved.

"But..." Mikey throws a hesitant look at Frank. "Did you find anything?"

"I think so." I confirm, "I'll go back tomorrow. Didn't look like there'd been a fight, and there weren't any corpses in the garden. I didn't want to go into the building while it was dark."

"What's it like?" Alissa demands, enthusiastic.

Her sorrow over Mark has passed in the days we've been travelling. She hasn't mentioned him since the day of his death. She stomped her feet and moaned incessantly about leaving the big house, but she's moved on quick enough. She hasn't apologised for stabbing me.

"It's a bungalow," I report, sighing as I slump onto one of the sofas and rub at my stinging eyes. "Massive garden, huge conservatory. Detached with big fences and a driveway. I almost walked past it, thinking it too small. But there's at least a dozen windows, so I think there'll be plenty of bedrooms."

Everyone nods appreciatively, but Liss wrinkles her nose.

"A bungalow?" She frowns, "Those are for old people."

"Gerard and Ray are thirty." I wave a hand to the two of them on the other couch, "They qualify."

Both of them exclaim indignantly. Ray throws a blanket and Gerard throws a book, and I grin when I knock both aside.

"Dinner will be ready in ten," Mikey says, "If you're wanting to shower."

I'm covered in grime and sweat, so a shower is necessary. We've not been travelling long. We drove east for a day, and then south for a day, and stopped on the edge of what's known as the New Forest National Park. The nearest big cities are Bournemouth - on the coast - and South Hampton - to the east - but there's plenty of little villages and towns. I want to stay as near to the wilderness as possible.

The hot shower soaks deep into my aching muscles and soothes some of the throbbing in my brain.

The last few days have been rough for everyone, and I've contributed heavily to the awful atmosphere.

I hauled us out of the house in record time. I worked through the night to make it happen. By midday, the day after Mark's death, we were heading east.

I've always been tense and mostly miserable on the road. This time... It's been to an unreasonable extreme.

The best policy, everyone has seemed to collectively decide, is to avoid me. The group have left me to my laundry list of tasks every day, checking in when they sense I'm in a good enough mood to tolerate questions. Those are very small windows during the day, so mostly they skirt around. It's easy to do, as I travelled ahead in the car for two days and I've left early every day since to search for a house.

The only person who has clung on, stubbornly, is Frank.

He drove ahead with me, navigating with a road map and helping to clear the streets of cars. We didn't speak much, but he wasn't bitter about it. In the evenings he urges me to eat and clears the living room so I can sleep. In the depths of my bad mood, his efforts have felt more like pestering. I've snapped at him more than everyone else put together.