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

Day 347: Tuesday 8th August 2017 20:37

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Day 347
Tuesday 8th August 2017 20:37

I finally got to find out a bit more about the moody teenage girl and there was a bit of a revelation.

I was in the bathroom with my top off looking at the bullet wound on my shoulder and the scar on my face. I turned the tap, knowing full well that no water would come out. I guess I was feeling hopeful. The girl appeared and saw me looking at my wounds. I looked in the mirror and noticed her stood behind me. "What's that?" she asked. "Bullet wound," I said, "I got shot." "Who shot you?" she asked. "A big fat orange bully called Ronald Dump," I said. "Ronald Dump?" said the girl, "Sounds like a Disney villain." "He was in charge of this abandoned holiday park, not far from here," I said, "He was a nasty thug. He killed our friends, bullied us and controlled us. It was awful. He's the guy who's b*llocks Mike ripped off and rammed down his throat. Mind you that was after he shot me in the shoulder AND in my arse, but I don't think you want to see my arse." That's when Troy appeared. "Ugh, no thank you," he said, "I don't think anyone wants to see your arse. It's bad enough you're stood there with your saggy man boobs, podgy beer belly and flabby love handles on display. Mind you your arse is so fat a blind man could see it from the moon." "Get lost Dorothy, me and Luke are talking," said the girl. "Whatever, orphan Annie," said Troy, swaggering off down the corridor. I put my top back on and the girl started asking me more questions. She asked me how I got my scar and I briefly told her about Hilary and all the drama in France. She then asked me who Esther was, asking if she was my girlfriend. I giggled. "God, no," I said, "We spent most of the time arguing and ripping strips off each other. It was kind of a one night stand thing. Mind you it did happen a few times. Anyway Dump sent her away. God knows where she is now. So, I've answered your questions, will you answer some of mine?" "Suppose," said the girl. "Let's start with your name," I said. There was a short pause. "I'm Courtney," said the girl. "Well that's a start," I said, "I can stop calling you the mystery girl when I write my diary now." "You write a diary?" said Courtney, "You sure you're not gay?" I asked Courtney about her Mum and Dad and she lowered her head and looked sad. "You OK?" I gently asked. "Whatever Bridget Jones," she snapped. She then stormed off. I felt a bit frustrated as I thought I was getting somewhere with her but the subject of her parents is obviously a touchy one.

Mike and I (not Troy) drove back into the seaside town with the megaphone Mike found. This was a brilliant idea. We drove round the streets using the megaphone calling to any survivors that might be out there. We didn't have to leave the car so it meant we were safer. Every now and then Mike got carried away and slammed his foot down on the accelerator ramming into some of the infected. I shouted at Mike and told him off like a naughty child, telling him that we weren't out here to mow down infected, we were looking for the others. Sadly we didn't find anyone.

On the way back to the pub Mike asked me if I thought Naomi was alive. "Of course I do," I firmly exclaimed, "I think they're all alive. Well . . . there's a chance they could be. Why do you think we've been driving around all afternoon?" "Just remember what Dump said," said Mike, "He told you he knew where Naomi was." "He might have been lying," I said. "Yeah and he might not have been," said Mike. "Look," I said, "I knew when Dump was lying. I asked him if he shot Seth and he said no and I believed him. I could tell he wasn't lying. There was just something in his eyes." "So do you think he was lying when he said he knew where Naomi was?" asked Mike. "I think so," I said, "But I honestly can't be too sure." "Well if he didn't shoot Seth, then who did?" asked Mike. "God knows," I said, "That's just one of a few unanswered questions." "What are the others?" asked Mike. "Well," I said, "Where's Mia, Trudy and everyone else? Will we ever be reunited with them and get to City One? Who's the secretive Courtney back at the pub and who's the mysterious figure I keep seeing?" Mike gave me an awkward look. "You don't believe me do you?" I said, "You think I'm seeing things." "Well..." said Mike, clearly thinking about what he could say that wouldn't p*ss me off, "I just think you've been through a lot lately and your eyes can play tricks on you. It's OK. It's understandable. When I was inside I used to imagine Dawn French stood at the end of my bed dressed as a clown. We can all see things that aren't there." "Yes but this man, or woman was there," I insisted, "It's like it's hanging around here trying to get my attention." Mike gave me a nervous and uncomfortable look. I shook my head in frustration. He obviously thinks I'm as mad as him. Whoever or whatever this thing is it's got me feeling really curious. Mind you, maybe I'll never see it again and that'll be the end of that...