Science Fiction Smackdown II Entry (Zombie-Fun-Excitement-Spectacular!!!!)

Chapter 9: Endless Repetition

David was restless. Since arriving at the cluster of houses on Tristan Close two weeks ago, his life had collapsed into endless repetition. He had been given a bed in the attic room of one of the the neat white rowhouses. He shared the room with two strangers, solemn-faced young soldiers. David had the impression that he was afterthought, perhaps even an annoyance. The two young men were polite, but distant, never saying more to David than 'good morning'. They ignored David's questions, particularly those about who, exactly, was in charge, and how far the zombie plague had spread. Even after all these months, David didn't know if the plague extended across the whole planet. Perhaps, on the other side of the Atlantic, or far to the south, life was going on as usual. Maybe, somewhere, there were still people caught up in their own day-to-day problems, sparing hardly a thought for their besieged fellow-humans across the expanse of water. Maybe they were the people who had sent that strange radio message of Amy's. The thoughts were disquieting, and the sense of uneasiness was only worsened by David's sense of worthlessness.

Each morning, after his room-mates had left for whatever it was they did all day, David would saunter down for a late breakfast in the makeshift canteen. Generally, there was something useful he could do there – wash dishes, peel potatoes, chop onions. It was never anything too onerous, or too meaningful. Then he would spend the rest of the day loitering in the street near the lamp that had been repurposed as a flag pole. David found himself chatting, or playing chess, or just waiting. He felt useless. Even Chloe and Amy had more to do than he did – there was a school here, and despite the fact that summer was rapidly approaching, the girls had been enrolled in classes. A month ago, when he was cold and wet and trying to herd two the young girls through zombie-infested woodland, David would have killed for a safe, warm room with a bed and three meals a day. But right now, what should have seemed like heaven felt more like a prison.

David stood, looking up at the flag, and wondered what day it was. Tuesday, perhaps. There had been potatoes to peel, which seemed like a Tuesday sort of exercise. He sighed, and walked around the lamppost once. Then his expression brightened as he recognized a familiar face.

“Jenna!” He called, excitedly. The woman, hearing his voice, looked up at him. On her face mingled annoyance and relief.

“How bored are you, David?” Jenna asked.

David shrugged. “Extremely. I want to get out of here. Don't you?”

Jenna shrugged. “And go where? At least here we're safe.”

“Anywhere!” David retorted. “An island! You could keep zombies off of an island.”

“Pah. What island did you have in mind? You'd starve on a little island. And a big island, like the Isle of Wight, is probably crawling with zombies.

“I don't know. There must be something in-between. There are islands in the harbour at Poole, aren't there? That's not far.”

“I'm sure there are. I know there's Brownsea Island. Castle. Boyscout camp. Very dull.”

“It sounds more interesting than here,” David grumbled.

“So you really are terribly bored? Good. I've got something for you to do. You're coming with the lieutenant and me. It turns out there are scientists here, and they need something from a farm up Lyndhust way.”

“Scientists?”

“Don't ask,” Jenna said, staring at him. She seemed to be telegraphing something to David with her eyes. He looked around, noting a few uniformed men on the street.

David shrugged again. Driving out to a farm was better than sitting and staring at a flag, and besides, Jenna clearly knew things. Maybe they'd get a moment alone, to talk. “Okay. I'll go.”