Luke's Diary: An Unlucky Man in a Zombie Apocalypse. Days 201-400

Day 312: Tuesday 4th July 2017 22:53

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Day 312
Tuesday 4th July 2017 22:53

It's been a quiet sort of a day, which after recent events has made a pleasant change.

Mike woke up last night just after midnight and there was a brief moment when it looked like he was going to stab and kill Dump.

I was down below when I heard a bit of commotion from up top. I ascended the stairs and when I appeared on the deck I saw Mike stood right at the back of the yacht with an angry but anxious look on his face. He was tightly holding Dump's arms with his right arm whilst pressing a sharp knife against Dump's neck with his left hand. "What the f*ck are you doing here?" Mike said to Dump sounding suspicious and angry, "What's going on? Where are we?" "Mike, it's OK," I loudly said, calling over to him, "Put the knife down. Really, it's OK." There was a brief silence as Mike looked over at me with utter confusion. "Luke?" he said sounding completely bewildered and surprised. "Yeah, it's me," I said, "Look, I know this looks weird but Dump's getting us back to England. You need to let him steer the boat." "Back to England?" said a confused Mike, "What are you talking about?" "We're in France," I said, "You've been in France, we've all been in France." "France?" questioned Mike. "Yeah," I said, "This is the River Seine. Dump's taking us back home. Don't hurt him." "Where's Hilary?" asked Mike. "He's dead," I said, "We left him behind. I know what he did to you. He won't hurt you again." Mike started to look a little less wary. "It's OK, Mike," I said, "He's not going to hurt anyone ever again." Mike held out both of his arms showing me his cigarette burns, stab wounds and missing fingers. "Look what he did to me," said Mike with a sad look on his face. "I know, mate," I said in a sympathetic tone. "He hurt me," said a slightly tearful Mike, "He really hurt me." "He can't hurt you now," I said. Mike faltered and loosened his grip on Dump who then took a few steps back and moved away. Mike dropped to his knees and started sobbing like a baby. Dump and I exchanged concerned looks. This wasn't the Mike we were familiar with. It was very out of character. Dump returned to the bridge and continued to steer the yacht. I felt sorry for Mike. I walked over to him, joined him on the floor, gave him a hug and cradled him in my arms as he sobbed. "It's OK, Mike," I said, "It's OK." I stayed on the deck cradling Mike for a few minutes and kept telling him it was OK when eventually he viciously pushed me off and shouted at me. "It's not OK!" he yelled, "It's not OK at all! Stop saying it's OK!" Mike showed me his hands with the missing fingers. "Does this look OK?!" he yelled. He then lifted up his top to reveal horrific burn marks and imprints of an iron all over his torso and stomach. Hilary had pressed a hot iron against Mike's bare skin. He must have been in so much pain, the poor sod. "Oh my God," I said. I was absolutely horrified. "IT'S YOUR FAULT!" screamed Mike, "YOU DID IT! YOU SENT ME AWAY! YOU SENT ME AWAY TO BE TORTURED. YOU SENT ME AWAY WHEN YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T! YOU DID THIS!" Mike ran off to the other side of the yacht. I gave him a bit of space but I did go over a few times and try to talk to him but he kept telling me to go away.

When I was in bed I slept with one eye open. Mike is really angry with me and considering that the last time I saw him he said I was just like everyone else and that if he saw me again he'd torture me and kill me. I half expected to wake up in the middle of the night with Mike stood at the end of the bed ready to go for me, but he didn't. Dump moored the boat up somewhere quiet, we tried to get a bit of sleep and Mike stayed up on deck until morning.

I suppose I do feel guilty. Mike's got horrific permanent scarring on his face from when I caught fire and he put me out, and now he's covered in burn marks, stab wounds, iron prints and he's lost three fingers. I know I didn't do it, it was that psycho Hilary but I do feel a bit responsible. 

When morning came I was lying in bed and I could feel the boat moving. I went up top and I could see Dump steering the vessel. As I turned round Mike quickly grabbed me and held me tight. He was hugging me. I gasped in surprise. "Sh*t, Mike, you scared me to death," I said. He put his hands on my shoulders, stood back and looked at me with an emotional smile on his face. "It's so good to see you," he said. "Good to see me?" I said sounding surprised and confused, "You were shouting and screaming at me last night." "It must have been the shock," said Mike, "I've missed you so much." "So you're not angry with?" I asked. Mike shook his head. "Last time we saw each other you were going to stab me," I said, "You said I was just like all the rest and that if you saw me again you'd torture me and kill me." Mike hung his head and turned round. He obviously didn't want to talk about it. "Yeah well, you sent me away, Luke," he said, "You sent me away when you promised you wouldn't." "I had to, Mike," I said, "We'd just arrived at Dumpville, you tried to kill TJ, you admitted to killing Alex. He was our friend, people liked Alex." "No they didn't," said Mike, "They thought he was a pompous, toffee nosed, posh boy with his head up his arse." "Yeah, OK, fair point," I said. "He threw all the food away when we were on the pier." "Yeah but he didn't deserve to die," I said, "No one wanted him dead." "He p*ssed people off," said Mike. "So did you," I replied. "And you sent me away because of it," said Mike. "That's not why I sent you away," I said, "I sent you away because I thought you might ruin our chances of Dumpville. I sent you away because I was scared of what else you might do to someone. I sent you away because I couldn't look at you without seeing Alex. Everyone knows what you did." "I did it to keep us all safe," said Mike, "Do you hate me?" "No," I said, "Of course I don't hate you. I thought you hated me." Mike stood up and gave me a hug. I'd forgotten how fiercely tight his hugs were and how he struggled with personal space. "If I hated you I'd have made you face everyone about what you did to Alex," I said, "I sent you away because I didn't want you killing someone and getting us all kicked out of Dumpville but I also sent you away because I thought that being out there on your own was better than being with a load of people who hated you for killing their friend." "Dump told me you rescued me," said Mike, "He told me that you untied me and brought me." Mike gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," he said. "Yeah well I couldn't just leave you there," I said, "I'd have done the same for anyone." "I'll never forget what you did," said Mike with a smile, "It's like we're each other's guardian angels. I rescued you and now you rescued me." I was slightly relieved that Mike was focusing on me rescuing him rather than blaming me for him being in the situation in the first place. "Anyway," said Mike, looking at the deep wound in my face, "What happened here? Dump's got one too." "Hilary," I bluntly said. Mike's bottom lip started to tremble and I saw an obvious look of fear in his eyes. "That man's evil," said Mike, "Pure evil. I thought he was alright when we first met but I was wrong. He's a sadist." "You don't need to tell me that," I said, "Me and Dump are going to have permanent scarring thanks to that f*cker. Thank God he's dead." I felt a bit bad for complaining about being permanently scarred to Mike, who is permanently scarred because of me. "What about Mary?" asked Mike. "Mary? What about her?" I asked. "Well we were together for a while," said Mike. "What do you mean together?" I cautiously asked. "Not as in sex," said Mike, "Ugh! No way." Mike explained that when he left Dumpville he went back to Wendy's farmhouse. He said she was nowhere to be seen but her infected sons were still tied up outback. "I killed her sons, secured the building and stayed in there," said Mike, "I was on my own but I was safe." "Where was Wendy?" I asked. Mike shrugged. "Mike, did you kill her?" I firmly asked. "No!" Mike exclaimed, "I don't go around trying to kill every Tom, Dick and Wendy." "No, just every Tom, Dick and Alex," I said. There was an awkward pause. "Sorry," I said, "I don't want to fight." "Honestly," said Mike, "Wendy wasn't there when I arrived. I didn't like her that much but I had no reason to kill her."