Last Year's Man by Paul D. Brazill

Author:Paul D. Brazill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

THE SIXTH PART

The office was all shiny chrome and red and black leather. Like something out of Miami Vice. It was a look that had been very popular in Seatown once upon a time, especially for men of an uncertain age. Vince Sandal had even gone for the Don Johnson look himself but all the fake tan, paisley suits and expensive cologne couldn’t hide that Sandal was an overweight ex-copper in his seventies, complete with the prerequisite boozer’s nose and smoker’s cough. I wondered if he and Bernie Clarke had the same tailor.

I sipped my cappuccino. I’d decided to stay off the booze for a few days to get my head around some sort of plan to help me escape from Seatown’s noose. My ever-decreasing cash had helped with that decision. After disposing of Bernie and Scarecrow, I hadn’t wanted to take a chance on going back to my flat in London so I headed straight to Seatown. Without a passport, there weren’t too many places I could travel to and I’d need to get some cash together to get a new fake one.

Sandal stood looking out of the office window, smoking a cigar and drinking brandy from a glass so big it should have had a goldfish in it.

‘Great view, eh?’ he said.

‘Tidy,’ I said.

Outside his office window was the old disused Seatown Fun Palace. The fun fair had been a local success but European Union health and safety rules forced it to be closed down years before. Sandal, however, had a plan to reanimate it.

‘You see a lot people in this town hate the European Union. What with the bombardment and all that’s quite understandable. The Germans did a lot of bloody damage to Seatown over the years. But the past is dead and gone. You’ve got to get with it. Get with the times,’ said Sandal. ‘You’ve got to adapt if you want to avoid becoming a dinosaur.’

‘So what’s your plan?’ I said.

I shuffled in my seat. The leather chair creaked.

‘Zombies,’ he said.

‘Zombies?’

‘Yes, Zombies. They’re all the rage these days. The Walking Dead, Resident Evil. Computer games, films and the like. They’re as daft as a brush of course but some people love them and not just bairns either. Even grown men. So, my plan is to open up a Zombieland where stag parties and office dos can come and chase zombies around the fairground, like.’

‘Where are you going to get the zombies from?’ I said.

‘Oh, that won’t be a problem. I’ll get a few community service urchins to do it. Max from Max Magic Shop said he’ll get the make-up and clobber sorted out then Bob’s your uncle and Fanny’s your aunt. What do you think?’

‘You know, it’s actually a pretty good idea. But what do you want me for?’

‘I want you to have a word with someone. To use your powers of persuasion, like. See, although I own The Fun Palace—I bought it for a song from Babs Hammonds few years back—I don’t own all of it.

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