Blog of the Dead (Book 2): Life by Lisa Richardson Read Free Book Online Page B

continued.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Where did you come from?’
    ‘London.’
    ‘Which part?’
    ‘South.’
    ‘What brought you down here?’
    ‘I like the sea.’
    ‘Did you come down here before or after the outbreak?’ I carried on, undeterred.
    ‘After.’
    ‘What’s London like now … you know, since the outbreak?’
    Sean stopped walking and turned to face me. ‘It’s shit,’ he said, and carried on walking.
    ‘Not much of a conversationalist are you?’ I said.
    ‘Nor’s he,’ said Sean, nodding his head to Misfit. ‘He hasn’t said a word since we set off. Unlike you.’
    ‘He’s different. I know him,’ I said. ‘I’ve learned that I can trust him.’ Misfit cast me a sideways look and half smiled at me.
    ‘And you can’t trust me?’
    ‘No. I don’t know anything about you,’ I said.
    ‘Hi, I’m Sean, I’m from South London and I’m looking for my sister,’ he said. I shot him a sideways look as I negotiated my way through a patch of brambles … he was smiling. Sort of smiling – smirky smiling. ‘That’s all you need to know,’ he added.
    ‘What’s her name?’
    ‘Anna.’
    ‘Is she older or younger?’
    ‘You ask a lot of questions. No wonder he doesn’t speak,’ said Sean, pointing towards Misfit with his hammer. ‘Can’t get a bloody word in, eh?’ Misfit ignored him and continued to dart his eyes left and right, searching for zombies, as well as probably fictional sisters while being led into the woods by a probable serial killer. ‘She’s younger,’ Sean added after a moment, stopping again. I stopped too and watched him as he spoke. ‘Fifteen years younger. She turned thirty just before the outbreak, but she’ll always be my kid sister. And I promised to always look out for her.’
    ‘See, not so hard, is it? Opening up … building the trust system,’ I said.
    ‘I couldn’t give a shit if you trust me,’ said Sean and he carried on further into the undergrowth.
    ‘What makes you think she’s down here?’ I asked, trotting to catch up with Sean. He still had a slight limp but not enough to effect his long legged stride too much.
    ‘I followed her down to the beach yesterday.’
    ‘She could be anywhere by now. Have you thought of checking wherever it is you two are staying? It makes sense she would head back there if you two got split up, surely?’ I said.
    ‘No it doesn’t.’
    ‘OK then.’
    ‘Not with Anna.’
    ‘OK then.’
    Misfit stopped and thrust out his left hand to halt us. ‘Something or someone has been through here recently,’ he said. ‘See that branch,’ he pointed to a branch, about the thickness of my skinny wrist and at shoulder height on a small tree to our right. It had been snapped about a foot from the trunk. ‘It’s a fresh break. Something hit that with force.’
    ‘The wind?’ I said.
    ‘No, the wind wouldn’t have done that. And it hasn’t been that windy anyway,’ said Misfit.
    ‘Zombies?’
    Misfit picked up the fallen branch and held it out to us. ‘Blood,’ he said. I looked at the bare branch and saw a smear of dried reddish-brown blood. ‘Had to have been a human.’
    ‘Was your sister hurt?’ I asked. ‘Did she get bitten when you two got attacked by zombies?’
    ‘She didn’t get bitten.’ I watched Sean rub his stubbled chin, then he ran his hand through his greasy hair. ‘We should split up,’ said Sean, a little too quickly. ‘We’ll cover more ground.’
    ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘We stay together. We’ll help you search down here for your sister. We either find her or we don’t find her, then you leave … with or without her.’
    ‘You really don’t trust me do you?’
    ‘No.’ Caine, who subjected me and the others to weeks of abuse in the house in Sandgate, before Misfit shot him and helped us to escape, leaving Caine’s cronies Trent and Eddie to burn alive in the house, had taught me not to trust strangers. ‘I don’t. But then you don’t care if I trust you,