Everyone was there. Norah, Maria, Isaac, Charlie, and my main man, Particles. This time, my homedog didn’t try and harass me into staying. I swear to whatever powers might exist beyond the pale, that pug is in tune with something bigger than us. It’s like he knows I have to do this and isn’t standing – or jauntily hopping and yapping – in my way.
“Go and get our boys and girl,” said Norah, folding me in a hug.
Maria, in her familiar way, brushed a loose lock of hair behind my ear, kissed me on the forehead, and just said, “Be careful.”
Isaac grinned nervously. “Dirty Harriet in the house, eh?” I laughed.
“You’re going to get my dad, right?” Charlie asked from beside Norah.
I went to one knee and held out my fist. “You’re damn right, little brother.”
He grinned, fist bumping me as we rolled back theatrically with our monumental finger explosion, laughed, and then the little dude flung his arms around my neck.
Jesus, I spend half my life tearing up in emotion at the moment, for good or ill, but that promise to Charlie was one I aimed to keep. I wasn’t having one more apocalypse orphan on my watch.
I know I keep banging on about how lucky I am to have met such good people, but I think it’s worth saying as many times as I can. You know, pre-apocalypse, I could count the good people in my life on half a hand. Dean and Maria; that’s it. They’re the only positive people I had in my life. Even when I spent three years at university and went to endless parties, there was only ever a string of temporary acquaintances, casual relationships, and a big circle of people that I just… knew. They weren’t really people I could rely on, or that I trusted, and never really felt anyone truly had my back, or that I could rely on one hundred percent. I guess being brought up in the environment I was raised in, I had trust issues coming out of every orifice. Guys were always looking for an easy lay, and the girls were pretty shallow and pretentious, or intimidated by my “laddish” nature.
What a fucking crock of shit that is, by the way. Talk about gender stereotyping, and by my own gender no less. Way to empower yourselves, ladies. People first, gender comes after. If I want to run on rooftops, climb up drainpipes, throw the beatdown on someone in the ring, or chug a yard of ale and do a tequila chaser at a party, then I fucking will. It doesn’t matter if I have a cock or not; do the things that ignite a passion in you. If you’re not passionate about anything, if you don’t seek out those things that make you happy, then you’re not living a life. Instead, you’re just enduring a meaningless existence.
Now though, I’ve got a big lodge of people I actually care about, and obviously care about me in return. People that have faith in me, and genuinely care about my wellbeing, and I can’t put into words just how that makes me feel. It doesn’t matter that we’ve only known each other for a couple of months. We’ve been in each other’s pockets for all that time, and everyone has been doing their part, working towards the common good, so time doesn’t mean a damn thing. Our little community has proved that friendship isn’t about how long you’ve known someone. It’s about those people who just come into your life and say, “I’m here for you,” and then prove it. Friends are the family you choose.
You can face anything in front of you if you have the right people standing beside you. Real friends will help you become who you should be - who you want to be - but at the same time, they’ll accept you for who you are right now, just as these people did as I geared up to go and get the rest of our little tribe. These people here? They’re not just new friends anymore. They’re my family now, and the marshmallows in this hot chocolate of life.
Right, after that nugget of philosophical genius – the hot chocolate of life…? Fucking hell, facepalm moment there, Lockey – I should return to my bardic magnificence and try to salvage my linguistic dignity.
I boarded my tiny Twatmobile with my backpack of ammunition and first aid supplies, flipped down the NVG’s, and set on my merry way. It’s really fucking strange driving with those things, with everything coated by that sickly green filter. In the end, I was glad I’d decided to take the Smart car after I’d got underway, as it was small and made it easy to navigate the roads with this new method of perceiving the world.
I drove the whole way without headlights, just using the NVG’s, because I didn’t want to Pied Piper a whole bunch of undead that could create potential obstacles on the way home as they gathered. Coming back, then fuck it, I don’t care because I’d be bringing everyone back hale and healthy. We could just run the route we took the following day to take out any walkers that might start drifting too close to our isolated little hideaway.
It was super eerie driving alone at night, in the near silent hum of the electric car, and I didn’t drive at any kind of speed for a couple of reasons. First, I wasn’t yet confident in how I
