Blog of the Dead (Book 3): Lost by Lisa Richardson Read Free Book Online Page A

pills.’
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘Cos you wouldn’t give up, would you… cos the world would implode or… pigs would fly or something, if that ever happened, right?’
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘But you’re OK now?’
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘So who the fuck was that in here last night?’ asked Kay.
    ‘Her name’s Elaine. Nutter alert.’
    ‘I guessed that from the way she burst in here.’
    ‘She’s worse than you think.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Well, we thought she was sort of OK. Well, apart from the fact that she broke in here and tried to kill you in your sleep. But in some ways that was kind of understandable,’ I said with a shrug. Kay raised her eyebrows at my last remark and then shrugged. ‘I thought she was just a bit eccentric,’ I continued. ‘Turns out she’s stark raving mad. She took us to a supermarket to get supplies and she kept making a ton of noise to attract zombies wherever we went.’
    ‘What the fuck… Why?’
    ‘Her quota.’
    ‘She sounds like a bloody liability.’
    ‘Oh, she is. If she tries that shit at every opportunity, sooner or later someone is going to get bitten. I think we need to get out of here as soon as we can. You OK to head off first thing tomorrow?’
    ‘I’m good.’
    ‘Great. I’ll let the others know not to bother unloading all the supplies. And we can get the hell out of here before Elaine gets us all killed.’
    December 31, 9am
    OK, so we tried to leave.
    Clay wasn’t 100% happy with moving Kay so soon after infection had almost killed her. I admit, she looked pale and worryingly thin, but, like I said to him, ‘She only has to sit in a bloody car.’ Kay said pretty much the same to him when he voiced his concern to her, only she added ‘fucktard’ to the end of her sentence. She was eating and taking her antibiotics, her temperature was normal and the bite wound was healing nicely. Her emotional and psychological recovery, I wasn’t so confident about.
    We were up, packed and ready to go just after sunrise this morning, but who should show up on a big black motorbike before we had chance to get in the Mazda…? Yep, Crazy Cleanser, or whatever she calls herself. Elaine drove through the gate, opened just moments before by Clay, and passed through into the Oast house’s grounds. She wasn’t wearing a helmet, which is why I recognise her straight away, but she still wore the leathers. As she climbed off the bike, I saw something painted on its side in white. I focussed on it and made out a biohazard sign, badly executed, with the words ‘The Cleanser’ scrawled around it in a circular design. I raised my eyebrows and tried not to laugh as Elaine strutted up to us, her spiked heels clip clopping on the tarmac drive.
    ‘You’re leaving?’ she said, her face stern. ‘You didn’t tell me you were leaving.’ She pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose as she stared at each of us in turn, settling finally on me.
    ‘We never got the memo that says we have to tell you what we’re doing,’ said Kay, her axe firm in her hand, despite the slight trembling in her legs.
    Elaine ignored Kay and spoke directly to me. ‘You’re a small group.’
    ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I guess.’
    ‘Did you start off small?’
    ‘No. There were others, but…’
    ‘You need me,’ said Elaine, resting her right hand on the Mazda’s roof and tapping her long red painted nails on the metal. I tried not to let the repetitive noise annoy me as I think it was designed to do. ‘Your people died because as a team you’re sloppy. No discipline. I can teach you discipline. You saw the way I fought yesterday, right?’
    Her words, however, annoyed the fuck out of me and that I couldn’t hide so easily.
    ‘I’m all good for swinging round on poles,’ I said dryly.
    ‘Swinging on poles?’ said Kay.
    ‘Yeah, it’s one of her zombie killing moves,’ I said. Everyone stared at Elaine and then, as if we suddenly realised we’d rather just get the fuck out of there rather