One of them came up behind me suddenly and I turned and whacked it repeatedly on the head with the hammer. I finally knocked it to the ground and then, with all my might, I copied Tim and stabbed the stick into the eye of a middle aged woman; killing it instantly.
"Are you okay?" Tim asked.
"I think so... I just didn't think I could do it until I did."
"You'll have to come with me Lydia. Come on. Get your stuff out of your car and put it in the back of my van. Quickly. We need to get out of here." Tim was getting very bossy lately and it was starting to wind me up.
"It's getting worse... isn't it?" I asked him.
"Yeah... it seems that way. It must be the virus. It's making people turn into something weird and mad. They're violently crazy when they see us. They're like bloody biters!" He said sarcastically and smiled at the same time.
"Okay... whatever you say..." I wasn't in the mood for his humour.
I moved my stuff into the back of his van and Tim drove to my parents house, as I gave him directions. They lived on a quiet street in a detached bungalow with a huge caravan parked on the side of it. I was pleased the caravan was still there.
As we parked up I noticed the front door was open. I panicked.
"Tim... the front door is open."
"Right... I think you should stay behind me. We'll go in and check it out or do you want to wait here. Just in case." He asked.
I knew what he meant, but I was prepared for anything. I wanted to deal with it now. The thought of seeing something awful made my body ache.
"No. I'm coming in with you." I was determined to be tough and calm just like Tim.
Tim pushed the front door and stepped inside. I was right behind him. We went into the living room. There was no one around. I was relieved. Then we heard a noise. It was coming from upstairs. We stared at one another. Tim put his finger on his lips telling me to be quiet, but I was terrified. I wanted to see my parents again. I wanted them to be alive. I didn't want to deal with anymore biters!
6. Lydia Brown - Lydia’s Parents
I followed Tim as he went up the stairs. I could hear movement coming from one of the bedrooms. I hoped it was mum or dad being normal.
We got to the top and I watched as Tim stood outside one of the them. There were three bedrooms up there and a bathroom. He put his hand on the door and opened it slowly. The room was empty.
I pointed to the other room, which I knew was my parent's. I thought I heard a moaning sound coming from it or something like that. Tim opened the door and went in. I followed him.
There on the bed was my mum. She was asleep. She seemed ill. Her face looked pale and she was so still that I thought she had died.
There was another door that led to the ensuite bathroom. Tim walked in there to look around. He came out shaking his head.
"What's wrong?" I could see his expression. He seemed off I thought.
"Don't go in there Lydia. You don't want to see." He pleaded.
I ignored him and ran in to see. There I saw my dad laying in the bath tub. I touched his hand. He was dead, but only just, as he was still warm. I started crying and fell to the floor beside the bath, but Tim helped me up and took me into the bedroom. My tears streamed down my face. I could not bare the awful sadness that had struck my heart.
I sat on the bed next to my mum and Tim touched her pulse to see if she was still alive.
"She's breathing, but she seems very ill." He said wincing at me.
"Do you think she has the virus? She looks so pale." I shook my mum's arm.
"Yes... it seems like she's got a temperature." Tim said as he touched my mother’s forehead.
"Mum... it's me... Lydia... can you open your eyes?" I asked hoping she could hear me.
I watched as I saw her slowly open her eyes. She was still alive. I felt relieved.
"Lydia... is that you?" She asked.
"Yes it's me mum. How are you feeling? What happened?" I hoped she could tell me.
"Oh dear... I feel so tired and... I... I hurt everywhere. Where's your dad? He said... he... was going to get... some... some medicine for me.... but I haven't seen him... for ages." She said, coughing as she spoke.
"Um... I'm not sure mum... he's not back yet." I lied.
I couldn't bring myself to tell her. It was too painful. I couldn't believe that he had died. I hadn't said goodbye to him.
"Mum... do you think you can get up? We have to leave here."
"No... Lydia... I'm... too ill. Why... do we... have to leave?" She asked in a slow, weak voice.
"Don't worry about it... just sleep. We can talk about it later." I answered as I thought how ill she looked and knew she probably wouldn't make it.
"Tell your dad... to come up here... when he gets back... would you dear? I need to talk to him. You see... I... don't think I'm... I'm going... to make
