In A Land Of Zombies, The Hypnotist Is King

Games & Lies

Gale, Lily and I came across the strangest group of zombies, to look at them they seemed like a random group with nothing in common who had gathered by chance but at the same time they somehow looked like they belonged together. Like a family where the connection runs deeper than the surface detail, than common interests or the way each of them react with the world.

We were on the seafront road, looking down at a part of the beach that was once a volleyball pitch, giggling between ourselves as there was not a volleyball player between them, but there were hockey players. One guy was done up in all the gear with a large stick that was probably used for roller hockey. He looked like he was fresh from the most violent game in history, blood spattered fairly evenly across his kit and stick, gaunt expression like the game still haunted him. The other hockey player was a kid, with a normal hockey stick but no kit. He wore the same gaunt expression and the same blood spatters but heavier stains down his trousers as if someone had pulled pleadingly at his trousers as he had chewed out their brains. Both wandered around the pitch as if looking for their ball and every now and again one would use their stick, twitch it as if flicking an invisible ball and we would look expectantly at the other to react, but they just kept searching hopelessly.

Two of the spectators to this captivating hybrid game were in their pyjamas, crusted blood around their mouths as if they had shared breakfast in bed before coming to the game and forgetting to change their hurry. They sat, almost hand in hand watching the circles being stumbled on the pitch, twitching every now and again but virtually inanimate.

Another fan stood on the sidelines rocking slightly as if he wanted to join the game or as if he were just an enthusiastic fan trying to help them find the damned missing ball. He wore bloody stains that dragged down his otherwise neat shirt and trousers and tight curly hair that remained pristine and glistening.

It was the last Mindless of the ensemble that amused us most. He seemed to have cannibalistic tendencies. He weaved in and out of the players so as not to get caught between them, and every time he got close enough to the adult player he tried to take a bite. He was rewarded every time with slap form the stick and backed off just to repeat again at the next opportunity. Blood leaked out from under his hairline and I wondered of this was an injury from his death or since.

“He must be tasty,” said Gale.

“Or maybe he's still alive,” said Lily quietly. She was not comfortable in this new world as herself yet but I was working with her and she was coming round, she would not be a fully functioning member of the team yet but she had plenty of potential. She had a creative mind and good survival instincts and these were both things a hypnotist could work with to bring an inner strength out.

“That thing is as Mindless as I've ever seen,” I said.

At that point we heard something, drifting on the wind at first, but all six of our ears pricked at it. Then it came again, a human voice.....singing. We weren't the only ones who heard it either. Our Mindless family below had forgotten about their game and were all looking in the same direction as we were, shuffling towards the sound like a game-crowd making their way into the stadium, all keen to be part of the action.

From our higher vantage point we could see what they could not yet, but it would not be long. A lad of about 20 was coming towards us on a bicycle and he had lunch written all over him. He was pedalling along the concrete promenade, weaving round the metal bollards separating the tarmac from the beach. He was singing with abandon, head tipped back without a care in the world, but there were six very real cares about to coming crashing down on him with teeth gnashing and a bloodthirsty gurgling in their throats. They could hear him and judging by the agitated twitching whipping into a frenzy, they could smell him too.