Rise and Fall

Chapter 4

All are quiet for a moment. Then, a whoop of laughter explodes from Jess.

“Why the hell is he in the loft?” Tony asks incredulously, his brow furrowed.

Pat’s mouth hangs open, gobsmacked by Jess and Tony’s response to this news. “His game consoles are up there, but why does that matter? He’s got dead people trying to eat him!”

Jess is yet to gain control of her laughter and, by now, Josh has also started giggling, although he tries to disguise it with a well-timed cough or two. Tony rolls his eyes as he mutters, “Typical Burns.”

Before Pat has a chance to jump to the defence of his friend, Becky intervenes. “As peculiar as Burns’ predicament is, Pat’s right: those things will eat him alive if we don’t do something.” She eyes the other three expectantly, waiting for either their agreement or rejection. One by one, they stop laughing. 

With a reluctant sigh, the smile falls from Jess’s face. When she speaks, she addresses Tony and Josh. “We really should go, you know.”

The two boys watch her, waiting for her serious expression to falter. When it dawns on them that she means what she says, their faces turn wary. 

“Don’t be stupid, you lot,” Tony says, laughing nervously. “If we go out there,” he jabs his finger at the front room’s large window, “we’re essentially committing suicide.” He waits for a response, but doesn’t receive one. “We can’t,” he insists, but it’s meek.

“I am not just leaving my best mate to be killed by those things,” Pat growls through gritted teeth. He jumps to his feet, glaring at each of them in turn. “I’ll go on my own if I have to!” 

Becky grabs the waistband of his jeans and yanks him back into his seat. “Sit down, you soft sod.” The couple glare at each other for a solid ten seconds before Pat caves, grunting and folding his arms across his chest. “You’re not going anywhere on your own.” Addressing the rest of the group, Becky adds, “But we need everyone, if this is going to work. We’ll only have a better chance of pulling this off if we’re all together, right?”

It’s reluctant, but everyone grumbles their agreement eventually.

“Lovely!” Becky says brightly, springing to her feet and clapping her hands. “So,” she begins as she leaves the room, “what are we using for weapons?”

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“No, I want the hand axe!”

“Jess, I’d do so much more damage with a hand axe than you!”

“Piss off, Pat! Have you ever seen me with a hand axe?”

The five of them are digging through the large shed in Josh’s back garden, hunting for suitable weapons to use against the zombies that are waiting for them at Burns’ house. Both Jess and Pat have set their eyes on a hand axe hanging from a hook on the shed’s wall. Josh, Tony, and Becky continue to root through the shed’s treasures, attempting to ignore the argument raging behind them.

“Use the hammer! It’s basically the same thing.”

“The hammer doesn’t have a sharp edge, Patrick! Why do you think I want the axe?”

Grabbing the pitchfork that’s propped against the back wall of the shed, Becky rounds on the siblings. “Will you two shut the fuck up?” she bellows. 

The two of them flinch, startled by her sudden outburst.

Taking a deep breath, Becky turns to Josh. “What have you got?”

Grinning with pride, Josh holds out an iron shovel, four-feet long and rusted. He looks at each of his friends, expecting approval of some kind, but he receives nothing. The grin vanishes from his face and he allows the head of the shovel to fall to the ground with an obnoxious clang. Leaning on the handle, he asks, “What’s wrong with it?” 

“What were you planning on doing? Digging graves for them?” Becky demands, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Oi, if they get hit in the head with this, they’ll go down like a lead balloon. It’s bloody heavy!” Josh argues.

“How long could you actually hold it for?” Jess enquires, tilting her head to one side.

Josh’s eyes leave her face and settle on the floor. He’s quiet for a moment before admitting, “Not very long.” Defeated, he lets go of the handle and allows the shovel to clatter to the floor. 

Feeling somewhat dubious now, Becky focusses on Tony. “Dude? What’ve you got?”

He holds a broom in his hand. “I’m working on it. Don’t worry,” he assures her, noticing the way her eyes have narrowed.

Sighing, Becky turns back to Pat and Jess. “Right,” she begins, waiting for the onslaught, “Jess, you have the hand axe -”

“What?!” Pat explodes. “You’ve got to be kidding? She’ll be useless with it -”

“Shut up!” Becky shrieks, her eyes wide and wild. Once Pat has decided it will be best for him to keep his mouth closed, she continues. “I’ve got other plans for you.”

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A cluster of empty glass milk bottles, a pile of tea towels, and three bottles of vodka sit on the counter in Josh’s kitchen. 

“Molotovs? Seriously?” Pat questions, his voice a tad higher than normal: excited.

Becky nods. “Out of the five of us, you have the best aim. No one else could be trusted with throwing an explosive.”

“So much better than an axe,” Pat says under his breath, reaching for the first bottle of vodka. 

Smiling, Becky turns to face the other three as they enter the kitchen. Immediately, Josh asks, “What are you doing with my alcohol?”

“Improvising,” she replies, absent-minded. Her eyes follow Tony as he walks across the room to the magnetic knife rack on the wall, still clutching the broom. He tugs the knife with the largest blade, the chef’s knife, from the rack and places it on the counter with a gentle clink. Setting his foot on the broom’s head, he yanks the handle upwards, snapping the brush off, before he sets to work rifling through the drawers. It only takes thirty seconds for him to resurface with a roll of duct tape.

By the time he’s finished, he has created a suitable weapon for himself. He has taped the handle of the knife to the end of the broom handle. Grabbing it, Tony mimes throwing a javelin.

“A spear!” he exclaims proudly, admiring his creation.

“Much better than a fucking shovel,” Becky mumbles, half smiling.

Josh narrows his eyes at her in response to the jibe. “Bitch, you’ve just robbed me of all my best alcohol. Don’t take the piss.” He moves to join Tony by the knife rack. Tugging every single one from the magnet, he proceeds to tuck the cheese knife through the belt of his jeans; all the others are thrown into Tony’s trusty backpack that he is never without.

“Okay, are we all with a weapon?” Jess asks, tapping the blade of the hand axe against her left palm. The group mumbles its confirmation.

“Let’s do this,” Pat grunts, his voice laced with determination and only the faintest hint of reluctance.

Single-file and laden with their respective weapons, the five of them leave the safety of Josh’s home and trudge outside, embarking on their unexpected rescue mission.