There were some figures in the children's play area. A woman was slowly pushing a small child on one of the swings. The woman stopped pushing and turned to watch her as she passed. The swing slowed until it was barely moving, and the child also turned to stare at her. With a smile, the woman raised her hand and waved an acknowledgment. Lisa waved back. She felt good. Everything was ok.
She walked up the main street past the shops and restaurants. Again, all was well. Outside the wine bar, two elderly men on disabled scooters sat at a table. They were smoking and there were two pints of lager on the table beside them. Apart from them, the street was empty. The shops were closed but intact.
She reached the end of the road and turned onto her street. As she did, the neighbour's dog ran up to her, barking. She felt a tiny tremor of concern. That was unusual. He was an odd creature, prone to unexplained flare-ups of aggression. He'd bitten Neil on the leg once for absolutely no reason as he was getting out of the van. Since then, Peter and Jenny had kept him indoors, or muzzled and leashed when he was out.
She was almost there … only a few more steps now.
She was at the front door when she realised she didn't have a key. Another pinprick of anxiety threatened to break through her state of tranquillity, before she noticed the door was ajar. But she was not surprised. Everything felt so right. She pushed open the door and walked into the kitchen.
Just as she'd imagined so many times, Neil was sitting at their kitchen table facing away from her. His back was straight and strong. He appeared to be concentrating, and his shoulder muscles flexed as he worked with something in his hands. She approached him slowly, her eyes filling with tears. All the fear and uncertainty of the past few days flooded over her. She knew he would be here. She knew he would be waiting for her. She reached out to touch him, her voice cracking as she spoke his name.
"Neil."
He turned around, suddenly aware of her presence. He stood up. His movements were awkward and jerky. A sound came from him that was not his voice, a sound that was now all too familiar. His eyes no longer twinkled with warmth but were clouded over and unseeing. His skin was grey. The thing he was working on was a human hand, ripped off at the wrist. He dropped the hand. It bounced on the kitchen floor spraying blood onto the light grey floor tiles.
She stepped back as he reached for her, a sneer deforming his features. He lurched towards her and gripped her around the shoulders, his bared teeth moving towards her neck. She put her hands against his chest trying to push him away, but he was too strong.
She cried out "Neil! It's me! Lisa." She felt his foul breath on her skin.
She grabbed the hair at the back of his head and tried to pull his head away, but it came away as a clump in her hand, bits of flesh clinging to the hairs. He bore down on her and she felt his teeth sink into her neck. There was pain and wet warmth, and she heard her own gurgling screams from somewhere outside her body before, for the second time that day, everything went black.
Lisa was struggling with someone who was calling her name.
"Lisa! Lisa! Jesus! It's me, Anita. You're ok."
Anita's face swam into view above her. She was frowning and looked concerned. Lisa was gripping Anita's wrists with both hands, pulling and twisting them. She let go. She tried to focus on where she was. From the rocking movement and engine noise, she reasoned that they were in a vehicle. Her head throbbed and she felt dizzy and sick. She'd been dreaming. Still confused and disoriented, she was lucid enough to feel a massive sense of relief. She put her hands over her face.
"Oh my God! I had a terrible dream!"
"Clearly," Anita said wryly rubbing her reddened wrists. "But you're ok now. You're safe. Just chill."
"Where are we? Where are we going?"
"You were out cold after those little shits mugged us and stole our bikes. I half carried, half dragged, you back to the main road. It took forever. I was trying to find somewhere we could shelter before dark, when this truck came along. They've been out looking for survivors. So was the helicopter earlier, even though they nearly killed us. They're taking us to the safe zone."
Lisa sat up too quickly, reeling as a wave of dizziness hit her. "No! No! We were nearly there. I have to go back. Please!"
A rough male voice from the back of the truck addressed her.
"Lie down, Darling! You're not going anywhere but back to Long Marston, with us. It's almost dark, and you've got a bad case of concussion. You wouldn't last five minutes. Just settle down. We'll get you checked out by the medic, fed and watered, and after a good night's sleep you can take it from there."
"I'm sorry, Lisa. I didn't have a choice. I was really frightened. They rescued us. Rick's right. Just think about it. You'd just get yourself killed, and what a waste that would be after all we've been through. Where would the lovely Neil be then? He might even be at the safe zone already. In fact, he probably is if he's got any sense."
The man spoke again.
"I can't believe you two have even got this far, fighting the undead with gardening gear," he snorted. "It's crazy out there, but you pair take the biscuit."
Lisa lay back and closed her eyes. Rick! Whether he'd saved them or not, already she'd taken a
