CHAPTER 12

Bastion Axestone strode through the rubble, pulverising zombie after zombie with his trusty bazooka. Dust swirled. The street was littered with fallen bodies, but zombies are slow learners and they kept coming. Bastion didn’t break his stride. He’d barely even broken a sweat. The guy was a legend.

A girl ran up to him, chased by a horde of ragged shufflers. She thumped on his chest, pummelling him with clenched fists. “Please! You have to help me.”

Wordlessly, Bastion turned and shot the lock off a nearby door, the rifle’s booms ringing out over the grunts and scuffs of the zombies. The door swung open.

“Quick, get in,” Bastion said.

The girl hurried inside. The door closed, but now the lock was broken, the wood about it splintered and charred. If he wanted to save the girl, he would have to stop the zombies himself. Bastion put his back to the door, and, like Horatio at the bridge, faced the shambling mob. They were close now. Their sunken eyes fixed on him. A seething mass of torn clothing and open wounds, they lumbered forward. There was no time to raise his rifle. The lead zombie lunged in a flurry of fists and hair. Hands closed around Bastion’s neck, choking him…

What?!

Straddling my chest and with one hand on my neck, half-choking me, Ava thrust her face into mine. “Seb!”

I pushed her off me, shuffling her sideways onto the couch. “What’s the matter?” I said. I sat up, the sofa throw slipping to the floor. Sun flooded through the windows.

“Visitor,” said Ava.

She followed me to the front door.

“It’s me,” Darren’s voice called from the other side.

I opened the door. He had his mother with him, and Talia too.

“Um…hi,” I said, flattening my hair with my hand. He could’ve warned me he was bringing Talia, but I could guess why he hadn’t. Darren was more cautious than a kitten at a dog park. He wouldn’t have wanted to use the phone in case he got the virus, too.

“So much for sleeping on it,” Darren said, pushing his way inside. “I hoped we might be lucky, that it might just be a short-term thing, but nothing’s changed. Mum’s been on her phone all night.”

I stood back as Talia guided Darren’s mum—who was still texting—over the step, then closed the door before Ava could attempt an escape.

Darren stopped in the middle of the lounge. Eyes wide, he glanced about. “What happened to your house?” he exclaimed.

I followed his gaze, to the kitchen where greasy pots and plates were heaped by the sink, to Ava’s grubby clothes and the soggy tea towels in a heap on the floor, the swimming box in the middle of the lounge, a pair of goggles, a flipper and a plastic snorkel spewing over the side, the first aid kit on the bench, the big slops of water everywhere, and Dad and Jason still in a trance at the table.

“I… I—”

“Give him a break, Darren,” Talia cut in. She led Mrs Howard around the box of swimming stuff and settled her on the sofa. “You’ve only had one person to worry about. Poor Seb’s had to look after his whole family, including Ava.”

Exactly. I couldn’t have said it better. Darren had no idea the level of responsibility I’d had to endure. There was Grandma, Dad, Jason, Ava, Mum…

Mum!

Oh no. I’d forgotten to take her up her dinner. It was still on a plate in the microwave where Grandma had left it. Cold liver and onions. I almost gagged thinking about it. But Mum might eat it. She hadn’t had anything in over a day.

Talia was giving Cody a good scratch behind his ears. “And you had to be fed too, didn’t you, boy?” she said, screwing up her nose.

Whoops.

Happily, Cody’s tail thumped on the floor. I exhaled in relief. At least, I could count on Cody not to give anything away. I’d have to remember to feed him this morning.

“Sorry, Seb,” said Darren, sinking onto the sofa beside his mum. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Talia took Ava by the hand. “I think Ava needs changing,” she said to me. “I can do it if you like?”

“That would… I can… I’ll need to show you where the changing table is.” I stumbled over the words.

“That’s okay,” Talia said. “Ava can show me. Can’t you, Ava?” Ava nodded and they disappeared upstairs.

I turned on Darren. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing Talia? You’re supposed to give a guy some warning before you bring the prettiest girl in school to his house.”

“The prettiest? Talia? But Penny’s…” he mumbled, clearly struggling to come up with an excuse.

I fumed into the kitchen, Darren trailing me.

“Look, Seb, it’s not my fault she’s here,” he said. “I ran into her on the way and she insisted on coming. She’d been to Sunnynook to check on the residents.”

“She must be really desperate to get that badge,” I said, scooping a cup of dog food into Cody’s bowl. Thankfully, Talia wasn’t here to see how ravenous he was. I handed Darren Cody’s water bowl.

“She said she’d wanted to check something,” Darren said, using the shower hose attachment to fill the bowl. “Turns out the Sunnynook oldies—most of them anyway—haven’t been affected. Just the staff.”

“How does that help us?” I said, stepping sideways to avoid the spray from the tap.

“It proves whatever’s going on has something to do with the game software, doesn’t it? Or with the internet.” He turned off the tap and put the water bowl on the floor for Cody.

“How do you figure that?”

“Well, because old people aren’t really that connected to the Internet, are they? Not as much as everyone else. They’re too busy playing bridge, going to Zumba classes, knitting baby booties, going to book club. Keeping themselves busy.”

“I suppose.” What he was saying made sense. Grandma didn’t do Zumba, but she was a member of the gardening club and she liked ballroom dancing. Move it or lose it was one of her favourite sayings.

I tipped some Honey Puffs into two bowls—one for Dad and one for Jason—and slid the bowls onto the table. I gave the cereal packet a shake.

“What about your mum?” I tilted my head towards Mrs Howard, who was texting on the sofa.

Darren shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay. I already gave Mum some toast.” He leaned in to me and lowered his voice. “She ate it like a robot. Like that.” He pointed to Dad and Jason, who were scarfing their cereal.

Before this happened, Dad would have gone off at me if he saw me eating like that.

Before all this happened…

I pulled my shoulders back. “We’re going to sort this,” I said.

“But Seb,” Darren whispered, his lower lip quivering. “What if we don’t?”

I didn’t get to reply because Talia came downstairs, Grand­ma and Ava with her. Wearing her Dora the Explorer t-shirt and a pair of leggings, Ava jumped the last step.

“Jumpity-jump,” she said as she landed.

“Good morning!” Grandma said cheerily to Mrs Howard. Darren’s mum didn’t reply. I’d never known her to be so quiet, or so rude.

Grandma frowned.

“Um… I’m sorry, Mrs MacKay,” Darren said, bustling over and resting a hand on his mum’s shoulder. “Mum isn’t herself today.”

Grandma’s face softened into friendly wrinkles. “It’s this dreadful virus, isn’t it? Seb’s dad has exactly been the same. Blocked sinuses mucking with their hearing, I think. Good thing you three are all well.” She hugged Ava to her side. “And my wee Ava, of course.” Taking Ava’s hand, she swung her arm backwards and forwards a couple of times. “Speaking of which, hadn’t you three better get off to school?”

Darren’s head snapped up. Talia threw me a wary look.

“Um—”

“Now, I know you’re all worried,” Grandma said firmly, “but you still need to go to school. It’s like the man said, education is your passport to the future.”

“I have to get Ava and Mum their breakfast,” I said.

“No, you don’t. I can look after things here. And keep an eye on your mum too, Darren.”

Darren gripped the back of a chair. Talia bit her lip.

“The thing is…the thing is…” I spluttered. The thing is what? That our teacher Mrs Pike was probably a zombie. That the coach Mr Davies was definitely a zombie. That the chances of school being open today were zilcho because every single adult we knew, maybe every adult on the planet—with the exception of some scattered-brained octogenarians—had been turned into zombies. School was the least of our worries. If something didn’t happen to reverse the effects of the virus soon, we might never have to go to school again. “The thing is…there’s a late start today,” I blurted.

“Yes, that’s right, Mrs Mackay,” Darren chimed in quickly. “We don’t need to be there until late today. It’s a teacher-only morning. For teacher training.”

I smirked. “And some of them really need it.”

“Seb,” Grandma scolded.

Grinning, I grabbed the Honey Puff box and rolled my eyes, signalling to Darren and Talia to meet me outside on the deck.

“Right then, let’s get you some toast, shall we, Ava?” Grandma said as I was closing the door. “What on earth is all this water on the floor?”