I wished that I had never started writing the journal, that final diary of events. Looking back over the pages, I felt the bitter sting of sadness and regret. Sadness because we now lived in a dismal new world full of ravenous monsters. Regret that I wasn'’t one of the first to die. My only purpose in this world, the only thing I’’m good for, is to write about what happens. Perhaps one day it will seem worthwhile.
I awoke with a thumping headache and slight confusion. Then I remembered what I had done and sat up. I saw that I was trapped in the back of the Ford, trapped where I had kept my infected wife, my Holly-monster.
I rubbed my eyes and noticed that the body of Holly was lying beside me; the pillowcase stained with thick, congealed blood still covering her head. I saw this as a small mercy; I don'’t think I could have coped with her dead eyes staring at me.
Jim was driving, and Dexy sat in the passenger seat giving directions. Gemma was crying into Travis'’s chest on the back seat and Dodge was petting Barney while staring blankly out of the window.
“There he is,” Jim eyed me through the rear view mirror. “How'’s the head, killer?”
“Gemma,” I sounded pathetic.
“Don'’t even,” Travis’’s sweatshirt muffled her voice, but I heard every damning word with crystal clarity.
“But I,” I had no idea what I should say, I just knew that I had to say something. I had to make her understand that what I’’d done was for the good of everyone. One bite or scratch from Holly and we could have all ended up dead.
That video clip said they weren'’t even people!
“You heard the girl,” Jim said. “Don'’t go causing any more upset, William.”
Why wasn'’t he on my side, helping to explain that I had done the right, no, the best thing for all of us? I’’d kept Holly around a hell of a lot longer than he would have. If it had been left to him, she would have been finished off back at the house.
“Why is she here?” I asked, looking down at Holly’’s lifeless body.
“Should we have left her on the side of the fucking road?”
“Just stop talking, Dad!” Gemma looked up and glared at me through eyes full of pain. My actions had darkened those bright blue eyes. Guilt pressed down on me like a falling building.
“I… I'’m,” I took a moment to find the right words. “I'’m sorry,” sometimes, the right words are the simplest.
I looked through the back window and was surprised there weren'’t more cars driving around. I expected to see the roads jammed with people wanting to be anywhere but here.
Had this thing hit us so quickly that there was hardly anyone left?
“Oh no,” Dexy said. “No.no.no.no.”
Jim brought the car to a halt. I turned to see what was going on.