Zombie Armageddon 1: The Unwashed Dead by Ian Woodhead

Author:Ian Woodhead [Woodhead, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Emma Reynolds’s television had been showing static now for the best part of two hours. She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece; it said it was a quarter past five, it had been showing that time for three years. Emma tutted, not believing it was nearly six o ’ clock; she’d forgotten to make tea again.

“That will never do. ” She muttered to herself.

She got up and turned the channel over; if it was nearly six then the early evening news should be on. Of course they would only show the bad stuff, they always did. The only good news they’d shown recently was the silver jubilee last week. That was grand; they’d even had a party on the street just like the old days. Everyone helped out, she’d even made a couple of plates of sandwiches herself, just cucumber and tuna spread, nothing too fancy.

Emma changed the channel over, deciding the news would be too depressing. She laughed as the static continued to show. The Benny Hill show was on; he was such a funny man.

She picked up the cup of cold coffee that had been stood on the table beside her for the past three days. Her son, Steve had made her it when he last visited. She took a sip and winced. There was too much sugar in this tea, she wondered if she’d picked up Arthur’s cup by mistake.

Emma remembered filling up at that street party when her old friend, Ethel turned up with her new husband. Those tears soon dried when she saw the profound change in her old friend, she used to be such an outgoing girl back when they were all single. Ethel , herself and Mavis Watson all used to go into Bradford on a Saturday night and party. Now Ethel was as quiet as a mouse, she jumped a foot every time her husband spoke, the poor thing. Emma remembered just what a little terror that Dennis Flynn used to be when he was little. Good lord, he was such a nasty piece of work. He nearly got expelled for hitting that young girl from F f orm T t wo with that lump of wood, he showed no regret when th e at teacher pulled him away.

Bullying was the one thing that Emma really did hate. The teachers had sent her little Steven home this afternoon; they said that he’ d s been picking on that kid, Ernest Belmont again. What utter nonsense. Her little Steven was such a kind and thoughtful boy, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. It didn’t stop her husband from giving him a good hiding and sending him to bed with no tea.

She turned the television off and walked past the urn containing her husband’s ashes sat on the mantelpiece above the fire. Emma decided to check on her boy. If he was still awake, she’d fix him up a nice plate full of dripping sandwiches. Arthur wouldn’t know , he’d already gone to work; he started his night shift at five.

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