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

Day 345: Sunday 6th August 2017 17:53

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Day 345
Sunday 6th August 2017 17:53

When I woke up this morning I looked in the mirror and saw my big gay bleached blonde hair. "God," I said, "I look ridiculous."

I STILL don't know anything about the mystery girl in the bedroom. This is getting silly now and frankly annoying. She has, however started eating some of the food that I've been leaving outside the bedroom door. I saw this as a positive sign but the others didn't. "Cheeky little cow," said Auntie Meryl, "She storms in here like she owns the place, eats our food and doesn't even say thank you." I reminded Auntie Meryl that she was a kid and that even though it was annoying that she had segregated herself from the rest of us, we might need patience for a bit longer and also be slightly more supportive. "Supportive," said Auntie Meryl, finding my suggestion laughable, "All this new age sit down and talk cr*p. When I was a kid we had more manners. We minded our P's and Q's and respect our elders.  If we invited someone into our house and they came in, locked themselves in the bedroom, ignored us and ate all our food, we'd either call the police or my Dad would take his belt off, give 'em a whack and dangle them out of the top bedroom window by the ankles." "Auntie Meryl," I said, "First of all we're not living in the early 1900s and second of all it's the end of the world. The usual rules don't apply. We're just helping her out." "Rubbish," said Auntie Meryl, "End of the world or not, good manners cost nothing. My friend Betty Crack once locked herself in her bathroom when she set her chip pan on fire. When the fire brigade busted in and helped her out she didn't ignore them and go round to their house and eat all their food. She said thank you very much, you've saved my life, is there any chance you could go back in and fetch my teeth." "She's just a kid," I said, "She can't stay in there forever." "Little madam," said Auntie Meryl, "Grab her ear hole and drag her out here. That's what these kids need these days. A bl**dy good hiding. A good hard crack." "I think you'll find that's child abuse, Auntie Meryl," I said. "Child abuse!" exclaimed Auntie Meryl, with laughter, "Don't make me laugh. Things are too sensitive these days. Too hypocritically erect." "I think you mean politically correct," I said. "There's nothing correct about it," said Auntie Meryl, "When I was a kid your Granddad used to send me down the shops with a few shillings and I'd come back dragging a bag of potatoes and carrying a sack of coal on my back and if I didn't eat all of my supper he'd take his slipper off to me and give me a bl**dy good wallop. I suppose you think that's child abuse?" "Yes!" I loudly exclaimed, "That's exactly what child abuse is. If that happened these days – well before the end of the world – social services and the police would come knocking on your door." "We didn't have social services in my day," said Auntie Meryl, "And as for the police, well you certainly saw a lot more of them than you do now. Our local bobby was constable Pennymoore and if you stepped out of line he'd give you a good hard crack on the back of your head with the back of his hand. He gave one young lad a black eye once. Mind you, he did nick a pint of milk off the milk float so I suppose he was asking for it. You don't do the crime if you can't do the time." "Auntie Meryl that's child abuse," I said. "Oh don't be daft," she said, "There's no such thing as child abuse, it's just character building." I had to walk away from Auntie Meryl as this was one of those conversations that was really getting on my nerves.

I went out with Mike to search for Naomi and the others. We left Troy at the pub. After yesterday's disastrous makeover I didn't want to be around him. We spent hours driving round looking. Nothing. Really annoying. I told Mike that this was weird and that they had to be in the area somewhere. "They probably took a car and just drove off," said Mike. Mike and I continued to drive around and search various buildings and as we did I asked Mike if he thought it was worth driving into the seaside town to see if Naomi and the others were there. Mike's face lit up with excitement. "Listen," I said, "If we drive into the town we're not going there to kill a load of infected. We're going there to look for the others. It will be a busy built up area full of infected. Remember how many there were when we were stuck on the pier. We'd need to plan it properly. It's more dangerous driving around the town than these rural back roads." Mike wanted to go at that moment but I convinced him we needed to go back to the pub and plan it properly. "You know I think your bleached blonde hair suits you," said Mike. "I'm not convinced," I said. "It makes your eyes stand out," said Mike, "You've got beautiful eyes." "Well I think I might shave off all my hair," I said, "It won't look ridiculous and it'll be easier to look after." Mike begged me not shave off my hair and when he said it made me look like I was in my mid-twenties I was convinced.

When we got back to the pub I told Troy and Auntie Meryl that we were thinking of driving into the seaside town tomorrow. "Well you can f*ck right off if you think I'm going," said Troy, "You told me that place was rammed with infected. I'm staying here." "No," I firmly said, "You're coming with us. We need all the help we can get." "Now's not the time to be going to the seaside," said Auntie Meryl, "You're meant to be out looking for the others." "That's WHY we're going," I exclaimed, "WHY else do you think we're going. To ride a donkey and eat candy floss?" "It's stupid," said Troy, "They wouldn't leave Dumpville and drive into the town – a place where you said there's loads of infected. They'll be holed up somewhere secluded like we are." "It depends," I said, "If they're running low on food they might have thought that driving into the town, although full of infected, was worth the risk to get something to eat." "Well how far is the town from here?" asked Auntie Meryl. "I'd say just under an hour's drive," I said. "There's loads of buildings there," said Mike, "Hundreds, maybe thousands. It'll take ages to search them and it'll be even more difficult with infected everywhere." "Actually," said Troy, "I've just remembered there's a gay sauna in the town that I used to go to. Bum Chums it was called." "What's a gay sauna?" asked Auntie Meryl. "It's like a health club but only for only gay men," said Troy. "Like a working men's club?" asked Auntie Meryl. "Well there are men working in there I can tell you," said Troy with a naughty look in his eye. "Give it a rest, Troy," I said, "We're not going to go to a bl**dy gay sauna. That's the last place the others would go looking for shelter and food." "After a night out on the razz I used to go there looking for shelter, but I used to go there looking for something else too," said Troy, winking at Auntie Meryl and giving her a cheeky glance. "Directions?" asked Auntie Meryl. "Do you know," said Troy, "The second I got in that place the stripping would start and me the other guys would just get down to work. The amount of cracks on show was untold. I refused to leave until all of my holes were filled." "Oh did you decorate the place?" asked Meryl, "Sounds like you did a good job." "He's not talking about decorating!" I loudly exclaimed. "What you on about?" asked Auntie Meryl, "What else would he be talking about?" Troy was about to explain things to Auntie Meryl but I firmly told him to keep his mouth shut. "Let me ask you this," Troy asked Auntie Meryl, "Have you ever heard of the jackhammer?" "Oh shut up, Troy," I said, "She's not going to know what a jackhammer is." "I think it's a sexual position where you hold your partner upside down, spread their legs to resemble a jackhammer and penetrate them using your penis causing them to go up and down like a jackhammer." A stunned silence fell. Troy, Mike and I gave Auntie Meryl a shocked look. "How the Hell do you know that?" I asked. "Well," said Auntie Meryl, "Let's just say they don't call it the swinging sixties for nothing . . . and let's just say that Betty Crack was a rather open minded person when she was younger . . . and let's just say we both went to a lot of parties that involved an empty fruit bowl, a load of car keys, a relaxed attitude and an obscene amount of what we called erotica." "What about felching?" asked Troy, "Have you heard of that one?" "OK, that's enough!" I loudly said, "We are not going to a gay sauna. I'd actually like to forget this conversation happened."

We discussed the best way of driving into town tomorrow and came up with a plan that one of us could use the car to distract the infected whilst the other two quickly searched the buildings. As Troy couldn't drive this meant he had to search the buildings with either me or Mike. He's not happy about it, but it's tough. He needs to start pulling his weight and no matter what he says we're going to need his help tomorrow whether he likes it or not.