ZombiePalooza - Anthology

#TeamEcrivain Pt. I - @elveloy's "Blue"

// Blue

by // elveloy

Blue wiped the sweat off his brow, and heaved another heavy plank over one shoulder. It was so hot he reckoned you could fry an egg on a shovel.

For a brief moment, Blue wished he was back on the set of Survivor Australia. He'd been doing well in the competition—too well in fact. The other members of his tribe had voted him out as soon as they realised how strong he was. Blue sighed. It had been fun while it lasted, better than working for a living at any rate. The cheque he'd received for participating had not been enough to allow him to quit his day job, but at least he had a nice little sum in the bank, ready for a new bike—if he had his way—or a house deposit, if his girlfriend Sheila had hers.

"Okay, lads, let's call it a day! Back tomorrow at 7am." The boss's words came as a welcome relief. It had been a long, hot bugger of a day on the building site. Everyone downed tools and headed for their vehicles.

Blue was happy to get home. He turned on the air-conditioning and went to the refrigerator. He pulled out a bottle of Cooper's Pale Ale, nicely chilled, and stuck it in a souvenir Australian Survivor stubby holder, before opening a can of peaches and grabbing a spoon. Armed with the essentials, Blue went into the lounge and flopped onto the couch.

He took a long swallow from the bottle, absent-mindedly scratching his beard and patting his kelpie dog, Bonza. Or maybe it was the other way around, it didn't really matter. It was time to relax. He spooned delicious golden peaches into his mouth and turned on the TV news.

The sight of a horde of zombies stumbling down Oxford Street caused him to freeze in amazement—just for a split second—until the announcer's voice came over the top of the pictures. "Protesting the latest round of G20 talks, London was turned into a scene from the Walking Dead earlier today. Crusted in mud to resemble zombies, hundreds of people crawled and shuffled down Oxford Street in a peaceful protest..."

It was amazing how real they looked, thought Blue, relaxing again after his initial startled reaction. He took another swig from the bottle. That one, dragging another protester into an alley, looked incredibly realistic. He must have spent hours doing that makeup job. Blue smiled as the first zombie came out of the alley, red covering his mouth. There was no sign of the other protester. Blue smiled again. The organisers sure had gone to a lot of trouble to make the march seem as real as possible.

He watched with interest as the zombie dragged another protester away from the march, then re-appeared a few minutes later. Alone. A shiver of unease ran up Blue's spine. Surely that was taking things too far? Why weren't the "victim" protesters returning to the march, even after a discreet interval?

~~~

"Search continues for missing protesters!" screamed the next day's headline.

"I knew there was something fishy going on," muttered Blue.

"Bloody remains found! 'Never seen anything like it,' admits a shaken Inspector Ross," declared the afternoon news.

"Zombies! What did I tell you?" Blue addressed Bonza, who was sleeping on the couch beside him. "Some of those zombies were real!"

"'Claims of a new London 'Jack the Ripper',' wildly exaggerated, claims Minister."

The headlines became wilder and shriller over the next few days.

"Haven't they worked it out yet?" Blue asked Bonza. "Or maybe they have and they just don't want people to panic." Thoughtfully, he chewed the end of his beard. "What do you think? Should I tell them what I saw?" Bonza snored gently in reply.