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

Day 734: Thursday 30th August 2018

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Day 734
Thursday 30th August 2018

I'm not in a good place – emotionally or literally.

I had another dream about Rick last night. I was sat in the same room I'm usually in and he was stood on the other side of the table, slamming his fists down and shouting at me. I can't remember what he was saying but he wasn't happy. I just want to know what these dreams mean, why am I having them so often and what have they got to do with Leo.

I woke up on Naomi's sofa, after a rather uncomfortable night's sleep, to the sound of a boiling kettle and cups clinking, Naomi was behind me in the kitchen making tea. I quickly pushed back the duvet, put on my jeans, t-shirt and shoes and adjusted my hair. Naomi appeared with a cup of tea in each hand. She aggressively slammed one down on the coffee table in front of me and then sat down in the arm chair opposite and started sipping her own drink. "Still in a mood with me?" I said. "Well what do you expect?" snapped Naomi. "I expect you to think about how you can support a friend rather than how you can get me into bed," I firmly said. "Oh shut up you big girl," said Naomi, "Anyway I thought we were more than friends." "Well I don't even know if we're that now," I said. "Look, why the Hell did you come round here?" asked Naomi, "Why didn't you go to TJ's?" "Well before all this I felt a lot closer to you than TJ," I said. "Before what?" said Naomi. "Oh I'm not going over all that again," I said, "I suppose I came here because I thought I could talk to you. Turns out I was wrong. Anyway, I didn't want to be found. In case anyone came looking for me I didn't think they'd find me here." "You're kidding aren't you?" said Naomi, "The first place they're going to look is here. If you're not with your wife, you're with the other woman." "Just don't tell anyone I've been here," I said. "So are you going to go home to Mrs Warm?" said a b*tchy Naomi. There was a sudden knock at the door. My eyes widened, I gasped and I quickly jumped off the sofa as I became anxious. "Oh who the bl**dy Hell is that at this time?" moaned Naomi, as she stood up and walked towards the door. "Wait," I urgently said, as I grabbed Naomi's arm, stopping her from going to the door, "It could be them." "Who?" said Naomi. "ACROBAT," I said. "Oh Luke," said Naomi, rolling her eyes. "I'm serious," I said, with persistent urgency in my voice, "Rick knows I'm on to him so he's probably sent round the ACROBAT goons to chuck me into a padded cell." "Oh Luke you really do need to get some help," said Naomi, "All that conspiracy theory sh*t last night was mad enough but now you're paranoid." Whoever was outside knocked on the door again; this time with more assertiveness. "Look, if anyone asks if I've been here, just say no," I said, "Please Naomi. Just say you've not seen me." "It might not even be about you," said Naomi, "It could be a neighbour wanting to borrow some bl**dy sugar." "Well if it's about me, I'm not here and I never have been. OK?" I said. Naomi gave me a sarcastic smile and nodded her head. "I'll go hide," I said. "Hide in the bathroom," said Naomi. I grabbed my cup of tea and hid in one of the room's as Naomi walked towards the front door. In my hurry I ended up running into Naomi's bedroom and not the bathroom. I slowly pushed the door, leaving a small gap so I could peek outside and look at what was going on and hear what was being said. However, my attention switched to something else when I turned round and noticed something terribly weird, rather unexpected and VERY freaky. On the wall above Naomi's headboard was, what I can only describe as, a shrine to me. Lots of photos of me walking around the town centre, Polaroids of me just after I stopped the thief from stealing Mia's purse, pictures of me in Starbucks and walking out of WH Smiths. The 'shrine' had little sticky love hearts, and shiny stars attached to it. This was really, REALLY freaky. Naomi is obsessed with me – PROPER OBSESSED! I had to compose myself; as weird and as shocking as this was there were more pressing matters at hand. I went back to the bedroom door and peered through the gap. Naomi was at her front door talking to two mental health professionals from Feemh Oak Hospital. I could tell that they had some sort of paramedic uniform on but I also noticed that both of the professionals were six feet tall and built like brick sh*t houses. "We're just worried about Mr Warm's safety," said one of the muscular professionals, "Have you seen him?" "No," said Naomi, "I haven't seen him since the day before yesterday. Is everything alright?" "Not really," said the professional, "We're worried that Mr Warm might be a danger to himself and to others." "Well, what do you mean?" asked Naomi. "Within the last seven days Mr Warm has threatened a staff member of ACROBAT Pharmaceuticals with a knife, he's been aggressive with his wife, attacked the mayor and threatened to cut his throat and attacked and stabbed his own son." "God," said Naomi, "It sounds worse when you say." "What do you mean?" asked one of the professionals. "It doesn't matter," said Naomi. "If Mr Warm is here it's best that you tell us," said the other muscular guy, "He's delusional. He's hallucinating. If he doesn't get help soon, things will get worse and then he might hurt other people or himself. We need to find him so we can help him and stop this situation getting worse." "So if you find him, he's not in any trouble?" said Naomi, "You just want to help him?" "Well the police might want to talk to him," said the other professional, "But Mr Warm's son, Mr Endo and Mr Hales don't want to press charges, so I'm not sure he'll be in too much trouble. We're just worried about his mental health." "We really do just want to help him," the other professional said. Naomi gave a defeated sigh. "OK," she said, "He's in the bathroom." Sh*t! I thought to myself. These men were coming to cart me off to the nut house and I was certain they were something to do with ACROBAT. With veins pumped with adrenaline, I knew I had to get ready to possibly defend myself and get out of there. I quickly scanned Naomi's bedroom and noticed a pair of nail clippers on her bedside table. I grabbed the grooming item, unplugged and grabbed the lamp and armed myself. I peered through the gap in the door and saw Naomi and the two meat heads walk into the bathroom. I quickly dashed out of the bedroom, approached the bathroom door, slammed it shut, wrapped one end of the wire of the lamp around the door handle and wrapped the other end of the wire around the pipe next to the radiator, trapping Naomi and the two meat heads in the bathroom. "Luke," Naomi called from the bathroom, "What the Hell are you doing? Open this door." "No f*cking way," I snapped, "You're off your head. I've seen all the pictures you've got of me. You f*cking stalker. It's you who's been following me around and taking photos of me." "Luke, I didn't mean any harm," said Naomi," I love you and I just want us to be together." "Well you've p*ssed all over that haven't you, you crazy b*tch." "Luke, we're from Feemh Oak Psychiatric Unit," One of the men said, "We're not here to hurt you. There's nothing to worry about. We just want to try and help." "Luke, just open the door," said Naomi, "Come on, we can sort this out." I grabbed my keys and my jacket and quickly left Naomi's.

When I walked out into the town centre I suddenly felt like a wanted man. I knew it wouldn't take the two psychiatric blokes, who I was convinced were ACROBAT heavies, to get out of the bathroom. I had to get out of the town centre and find somewhere to lay low. I can't believe Caroline called the psychiatrist lot and told them to come and cart me off. B*tch! I quickly started walking out of the town centre feeling determined to keep a low profile and stay out of everyone's way. "What the Hell am I going to do now?" I said to myself. I produced my mobile phone, and as I marched out of the town centre I called Caroline. "Luke, where are you?" she said with panic and concern in her voice, "I've been so worried." "You absolute b*tch," I snapped. "What?" said a shocked Caroline, "What do you mean?" "You called the psychiatrist didn't you?" I snapped, "I've got people after me, who want to lock me up now." "Luke, I didn't call anyone," said Caroline. "You liar," I firmly said. "I'm not lying," said Caroline, "Seriously. I didn't call anyone. Rick wanted me to but I said no. I felt too guilty. Honestly Luke, I didn't call anyone. Where have you been?" "Well if you didn't call them, who did?" I snapped. There as short pause. "That Rick," I firmly said, "I bet he f*cking called them." "No, Luke," said Caroline, "He wanted to but I asked him not to. He wouldn't do that. Luke just come home. We can sort this out. Where have you been? Please tell me you didn't go to Naomi's." I hung up, called Tara and asked her if she'd found anything out about the town or about Rick. "No Luke," she said, "I haven't found anything out and to be honest I've got a load of work on without running around on some wild goose chase." "Tara, this is important," I firmly said. "Then you look into it," said Tara, firmly, "I've done a bit of digging and found absolutely nothing. What's going on Luke? Caroline phoned and . . ." I cut Tara off and hung up.

I spent the rest of the day avoiding people and ignoring phones calls, texts and voice messages from Caroline, Naomi, Mia, TJ and the others. The psychiatrist lot even phoned me and left a voice message asking me to attend the psychiatric hospital so they could help me. They must think I'm mad – well they probably do actually, but there's no way I'm turning up to a psychiatric hospital so a load of ACROBAT tw*ts can pump me full of drugs and p*ss about with my head. No way.

I've checked into a cheap hotel in the south of the town, not too far from the cemetery. I've paid in cash and used a false name so there's no way anyone will be able to find me here. I'm in a right sh*tty room; dated furniture, stained walls, a carpet from the seventies and a single bed with some questionable stains on it. The woman on reception is a really stern and strict b*tch too. Before I checked in she told me, in a very authoritative tone the rules on staying in her hotel – no dogs, no cats, no drugs, no alcohol, no visitors after 8pm etc. . . . she made, what I wanted to be in a quick check-in process, long and painful and she spoke to me like I was a naughty school boy. I didn't care. I just wanted to get in my room and stay out of everyone's way. Anyway, I'm in my room and even though it's a dump, it'll do for now. My phone hasn't stopped ringing and beeping. The more phones calls and text messages I get, the more worried I become. I can't let anyone know where I am. By now that Rick has probably told everyone that I threatened him and was ranting like a mad man, and convinced everyone I need sectioning. B*stard. He's heavily involved in this whole thing and I think Harold's got something to do with it too. I need to come up with a plan, but right now I have no idea what it could be. I feel like a man on the run and that I'm all on my own. I don't know who to trust and to be honest I don't really know if I can trust ANYONE. . .  What the Hell am I going to do . . . .?