Luke's Diary: An unlucky man in a zombie apocalypse. Days 601 - 756

Day 666: Saturday 23rd June 2018

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Day 666
Saturday 23rd June 2018

Well today the wait was finally over today. Richard returned. Typical he'd turn up on day 666 of the outbreak, however that wasn't the only surprise that happened today. It's been a very, very traumatic day.

We were all sat in the living room, once again talking about our situation when all of a sudden there was a knock at the door. It was a loud panicky knock; not just your average every day knock at the door. Silence fell, our eyes widened and we all looked shocked and cautious. Parrissa was sat near the window on watch. "Parrissa," I quietly but urgently said, "What's that?" Parrissa closed her eyes and pressed her index fingers against her forehead as if she was trying to communicate with the great beyond. "Mmmmmmm," she said, making a strange noise, "Ooooooh. Mmmmmmm. I'm getting something. . . . my senses are telling me . . . . that's it . . . . I think there's someone at the door." I rolled my eyes in frustration. "We know there's someone at the door," I exclaimed, "We're not deaf. Who is it?" "I don't know," said Parrissa, "I can't see through walls . . . but I can sometimes see through minds." "Look out of the bl**dy window you daft cow," I snapped, "Knock it off with all this Mystic Meg cr*ap. You're supposed to be on watch." Parrissa peered out of the window and then looked back at us. "It's two people," said Parrissa, "One's a woman and the other one's the other sort." "A man?" said Trudy, bluntly. Parrissa nodded. "It's probably a pair of pikeys selling tea towels. Tell 'em to p*ss off." Tara walked over to the window and peered through the curtains. "It's not Richard," she said, "Looks like a couple of people that need help." "Well then we should welcome into our heavenly sanctuary," said Parrissa. "By my m*inge flaps, are we letting them!" Trudy loudly said, "They could be plants." "Oh no they're definitely people," said Parrissa. "She means that Richard could have sent them," said Esther. The couple knocked again. "We know you're in there," the man's voice, gently said, "We don't want to cause any harm. We just need a bit of food." "We won't be any trouble, we promise," said the woman's voice. "They're not going anywhere, I think we should let them in," I said. Everyone else except Parrissa was dead against it. "They know we're here," I exclaimed, "They sound desperate." "Are we just going to sit here and ignore them?" I bluntly asked. "I would," said Auntie Meryl, "They'll be knocking on the door until sunset. That's the problem with these tinker types. Once they know you're in they don't give up. You answer the door wondering who it is and the next thing you know you've bought an airing cupboard full of dish cloths and dusters." The couple knocked again. I picked up one of the large steak knives and started to exit the living room. "Luke, don't do it," said Trudy, "This could be a trap." "I'll be careful," I said. "It could be something to do with Richard," said a worried Trudy. "Well that means we might get the kids back," I said, "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

I exited the living room, walked up to the front door, put my hand on the knob and gave everyone else, who were huddled in the living room entrance, a cautious look. I took a deep breath, turned the knob, opened the door and quickly took a step back, arming myself with my large steak knife and adopted an aggressive expression. Two people were stood in the doorway. They looked very nervous but also desperate. Before the pair had a chance to say anything I pointed the knife at them and told them to come in slowly and shut the door behind them. They tentatively entered the hallway and closed the door. We looked our new arrivals up and down; a short blonde woman in her late thirties with some sort of walking stick and a man in his late fifties with grey hair. They both looked quite stressed and worn out. "Who are you?" I assertively asked, "What are your names?" "Joe," said the man, "Joe Foster. This is Nicola Shrimpton." "Shrimpton?" said Parrissa, "What a funny name. Shrimp. Shrimp, ton. A ton of shrimp. Ooooh, imagine what a ton of shrimp would look like." "Will you shut up?" I snapped at Parrissa. "Look, we've been on the road for a while now," said Joe, "We were in a car but the engine conked out." "Yeah" said Nicola, "We had loads of food but these guys came and stole it. We've got nothing. Please, can we just sit down?" Believing the newcomers but still remaining cautious we showed them into the kitchen where they sat around the island. I gave them a bit of water, which they gulped down very quickly. "That's right," said Auntie Meryl, "Give the scroungers all our food." "Auntie Meryl!" I exclaimed. "Well how would they like if I turned up to their house, knocked on the door and said give me some food?" said Auntie Meryl, "It's not Oliver Twist you know. Are you sure they're not selling tea towels?" "Oh Auntie Meryl, be quiet," I said. I returned my attention to Nicola and Joe. "So what's your story?" asked a suspicious Tara. "Well there were a few of us on the road a few months ago," said Joe, "But now it's just us two. I used to be in the building trade and I had all these tools that we were using as weapons. We lost them when we lost our people." "Where you from?" asked Esther. "Originally from Sunderland," said Joe, "Although that feels like a lifetime ago now." "I went to Sunderland with Betty Crack once," said Auntie Meryl. "What did you think of it?" asked Joe. "Sh*t," said Auntie Meryl, bluntly, "Everyone had faces like slapped arses and there was nothing to do. Talk about grim. I've had more fun cutting my toe nails. There was this bloke tried to sell me a magazine. When I told him I wasn't interested he started shouting 'Big Issue, Big Issue' I said 'Listen love, it's a magazine not a cure for cancer it's not that much of a big issue'. If that's Sunderland you can bl**dy well keep it." "Ignore her, she's mad," I said to Joe. "What have you got that stick for?" Auntie Meryl bluntly asked Nicola. "MS," said Nicola. "MS?" said a confused Auntie Meryl, "That's that supermarket where you get all that posh food from isn't it?" "Jesus," I said, "That's M&S." "What did she say?" asked Meryl. "She said MS," I said. "I just find it difficult to walk sometimes," said Nicola. "Well the isles in that place are pretty thin," said Auntie Meryl, "I'm surprised you can afford to shop there. No offence but you don't look like an M&S customer to me. You look like the sort you'd find rummaging through the bargain bins in Aldi." "Auntie Meryl, you're being so rude," I firmly said. "MS," said Nicola, "It just means I struggle to walk and keep my balance sometimes." "It's when you feel weak in the joints and that sort of thing," said Tara, "You go to stand up and you fall down." "That's called being a p*sshead," said Auntie Meryl, "Don't go trying to convince me that's some sort of condition." Auntie Meryl looked at Nicola. "If you've got a problem with the drink it'll take more than a stick to stop you going arse over t*t," she said. "Auntie Meryl, having MS is nothing to do with being an alcoholic," I said. "Well my mate Betty Crack was always falling over and knocking into things after a few sherries," said Auntie Meryl. "Look, we don't want to be a bother," said Nicola, "We just need to catch our breath and then we'll be on our way." "Too right you will," said Trudy, "You're not frigging staying here." "For God's sake," I said, "Can we all stop being so rude and try to be nice." "Why should we?" snapped Trudy, "We don't know who the f*ck they are. Anyway, we've got enough going on without giving away all our food." "If they've been to M&S I don't know why we need to give them any food anyway," said Auntie Meryl. As we continued bickering we failed to notice what Nicola and Joe were up to. They quickly placed two strange looking canisters on the kitchen island and ran out of the room. Silence fell, we looked confused and wondered what was going on. "Where have they gone?" asked TJ. All of a sudden white smoke rapidly started emanating out of the canisters. "It's knock out gas!" yelled Mike. We all quickly started to exit the kitchen and ran towards the living room door we weren't quick enough. Within seconds the gas consumed the kitchen, filled the living room and we all passed out and fell on to the floor.