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Chapter 97


When we first got to Bodiam Castle, I felt like I was Harry Potter, coming to Hogwarts for the first time. This castle’s not nearly as cool as Hogwarts though, and it’s not even close to being as nice as MacDill. There’s no electricity here; we’ve gone medieval. If we want light, we have to light a candle or an oil lamp. If we want hot water, we have to heat the water over the fire first. Thank god this place has a lot of fireplaces, cause it’s freaking freezing in here! It was so hard to keep track of time in Florida, I almost forgot it was winter… and that winter is COLD in other parts of the world!

I never feel warm here, but at least I feel safe. The zombies can’t get inside the castle, and the cold slows them down even more. They don’t smell quite as bad here as they did in hot, humid Florida either, but maybe I’ve just gotten used to the stench. It’s pretty sick to think you could just get used to the smell of rotting bodies, but it’s been with us so long, I almost forgot what fresh air smells like. But as long as I live, I’ll never forget the smell of death. Some things just stick with you.

This castle will never feel like home, but I’m still glad we came. It’s nice to be someplace new, where there are more people and not so many memories. It’s not the same, but I think I needed the change. Not everyone’s so happy about the change, but at least we’re safer now. Stronger, too, now that we know we’re not alone. I try to remind myself of that every day, to make myself feel better.

I am not alone.

I am not alone.



Sunday, February 3, 2013
Week Forty-Two

Gabby wasn’t the type of girl who dreamed of being a princess, but if she had been, she would have been disappointed by Bodiam Castle. On the outside, it was every bit a classic fairy tale castle, complete with turrets and a moat, but on the inside, it was drafty and dilapidated, hardly a palace fit for a princess.

The castle had been in ruins when Selena and Shaun’s small group had sought shelter there, a mere shell of its former fourteenth century glory. They had fortified its stone walls and maintained its grounds, which contained both a garden and a well, making it a suitable fortress against the walking dead. There, they’d been able to stay safe and self-sufficient, with enough space and supplies to provide for the eight American newcomers. The castle didn’t offer the same luxuries Gabby and the others had enjoyed on the base, but it did offer security and hope for the future. Inside its walls, a simplistic society continued to survive.

Gabby understood that survival was all that mattered these days – not wants, just basic needs. The castle wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she had everything she needed there… everything, except her mother and father. Like Harry at Hogwarts, she’d arrived at Bodiam Castle an orphan. But she wasn’t the only one. In the undead world, everyone was an orphan. The English survivors were no different from the base group – ten strangers who had found themselves alone after the plague, then found each other. Their numbers had once been higher, but like the base group, they had lost people, too.

They were devastated to learn of the death of Giorgio, who had been a commercial airline pilot in his native Italy. “He told us he was flying back from the States on the day the virus spread,” Selena had explained. “He left New York with a plane full of people, and by the time he landed in Milan, most of them were dead.” Giorgio had survived, due to the same immunity they’d all been lucky enough to receive, but not even that had been enough to save him from the insatiable hunger of the undead.

“He sacrifice himself to save the world,” lamented Lucio, a middle-aged Italian man, who had apparently escaped to England with Giorgio. The loss of his fellow countryman seemed to have hit him the hardest.

“At least it wasn’t in vain,” said Abby, an older, motherly type, who seemed to be a leader among the English group. The gentle way in which she spoke to Lucio, patting his arm consolingly, reminded Gabby of her own mother, and in that moment, she missed her more than ever. She took the red-haired boy who sat on Abby’s other side to be her son, and as she watched them together that first night, Gabby seethed with jealousy, hating him for having a mother when she had no one.

Besides Selena, Shaun, Dr. Kwak, and the pair who had picked them up at the airport, Liz and Ashton, there were two others who lived in the castle. One was a young man named Martin, who came from Norway. The first thing Gabby had noticed about him was that he was missing half of his right arm. She was curious to know how he’d lost it, but he didn’t seem to speak English very well, and even if he had, it wouldn’t be polite for her to ask. Even in the undead world, her mother would expect her to use good manners, so Gabby kept her mouth shut and tried to stop herself from staring at the empty sleeve he had pinned to his shoulder.

The other man was equally mysterious. He was an older gentleman by the name of Alistair, and he, too, looked worse for wear, with a face that was twisted and scarred beneath his bushy beard and a noticeable limp when he walked. AJ and Alistair quickly bonded over their bad legs, and Gabby overheard them swapping stories over breakfast on Sunday morning, two days after they arrived at the castle. “Old war wound, leftover from me stint in the army,” Alistair explained, in an accent so thick, Gabby had a hard time understanding him. “Got injured in combat some forty years ago… hasn’t been the same since.”

“Aw, hell, man, now I feel like a total wimp,” groaned AJ, shaking his head. “I jacked up my leg falling out of a tree.”

“And who came out worse, you or the tree?”

AJ grinned. “We turned the tree into lumber.”

Alistair chuckled wheezily, slapping his good leg. “Now there’s a good lad! ‘Least ye got yer revenge in the end, eh?”

In another corner of the castle’s large kitchen, Riley and Nick were laughing with Liz and Shaun as if they were old friends. Gabby supposed it made sense; Shaun was a lot like Nick, ten years older, but no more mature. No wonder they got along so well.

Gabby sat on a hard, wooden bench between Kevin and Gretchen, across the table from Brian, Abby, and her son Callum, with whom Gabby carefully avoided eye contact. She kept quiet, listening rather than joining in to the conversation they were having. Abby was like an older version of Gretchen, sweet and soft-spoken. Callum just seemed shy. He had fair, freckly skin that turned pink whenever someone asked him a question.

Meanwhile, Gabby shifted uncomfortably on the bench, picking at her breakfast of lumpy oatmeal. She wasn’t hungry, especially for this; her stomach had been aching on and off ever since she’d gotten up that morning, as if her insides were all twisted up. Besides that, she felt like she had to go to the bathroom – maybe that would help. “I’ll be right back. Bathroom,” she added, in response to Kevin’s questioning gaze as she got up, climbing over the back of the bench.

Going to the bathroom wasn’t as bad as she’d expected it to be, after seeing the inside of the castle. Before the world had fallen apart, this had been a tourist attraction, so there was a modern ladies room with real toilets and sinks and even a baby changing station. Unfortunately, there was no running water, so they kept buckets of well water on hand with which to wash and flush the toilet.

Gabby reluctantly lowered her pants and perched gingerly on the edge of the cold toilet seat. As she went about her business, she happened to look down and quickly realized the reason for her discomfort, when she noticed the spot of pink in the middle of her white underwear. “Oh, no,” she groaned out loud, burying her face in her hands. What crappy timing her body had.

It wasn’t her first period ever; thankfully, that had happened when she was still twelve, when the world was still normal, when her mother was still alive to show her what to do. But it was her first since they’d arrived in England, and in that instant, Gabby realized a major oversight on her part: she’d forgotten to pack any supplies to take care of it. Great, she thought, annoyed with herself. Now she would have to go ask one of the other women, which would be embarrassing. Unless, maybe, someone had already left a stash in the bathroom.

She looked around hopefully. It was a public restroom, so there were no cabinets under the sink in which to store such things, but she was in luck: on the wall was an old-fashioned dispenser, like the kind that had hung in the girls bathroom at her school. In the younger grades, it had been common practice to dare each other to put a quarter in that dispenser and see what came out. But this time, Gabby didn’t have a quarter, and even if she did, this machine probably didn’t take quarters; it would take British coins, and she didn’t have any of those, either. Up until then, there had been no need for money in the undead world.

She sighed, resigning herself to the notion of asking one of the adults for help. She decided she’d go to Gretchen; Gretchen wouldn’t make her feel too embarrassed. Gretchen had been a teacher, so she would understand. But then another thought occurred to her: Gretchen might not have what she needed either. She didn’t think pregnant women got periods.

That left Riley, because she wasn’t comfortable enough to ask one of the English women, and she definitely wasn’t going to go to Kevin or any of the other guys. But that was okay; Riley was cool. Riley would help her without making a big deal out of it.

Gabby got up, fixed her clothes, and flushed the toilet using the bucket of water, the way she’d been shown. Then she slipped out of the bathroom, snuck around the corner, and nearly smacked right into someone else. “Oh!” she cried out, startled, as she jumped back. Looking up, she found herself face to face with the old man, Alistair. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly, feeling her face heat up.

“No need to apologize, dearie; I’m still standing,” said Alistair, his weathered face splitting into a grin that looked more like a grimace. “I suppose we’re accustomed to walking on different sides of the corridor now, aren’t we? Just like our roads. You Yanks stay on the right, but here in Britain, left is right!” He let out a loud guffaw.

Gabby giggled weakly, forcing a polite smile. “Sorry,” she said again. “I’ll try to remember.”

“No need. Just watch where ye’re goin’ now, and no one’ll get hurt.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

She started to walk away, but his gruff voice stopped her. “Ye settlin’ in alright, are ye?”

Gabby stopped and turned back, nodding. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do for ye, just say the word. Right?”

“Right,” Gabby agreed, forcing another smile. “Thanks.” She started to hurry away again, then, on sudden inspiration, turned around once more. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any quarters on you, would you? Or… whatever’s close to a quarter in British money.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt embarrassed and wished she hadn’t asked.

Alistair’s mouth twisted into another crooked smile, exposing his snaggled, yellow teeth. Gabby knew it was rude to stare, but she couldn’t seem to look away from those nasty teeth as he talked. “Let’s see now… a quarter… that’s twenty-five cents, right? Only here in England, we use pence. Pence – say it now.”

“Pence,” Gabby repeated, feeling like her face was on fire. “Right.”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t got any pence. Haven’t carried any coins on me since the dead started walking. What do you need five and twenty pence for?”

Gabby wished she could sink through the floor and disappear. “Oh, nothing… never mind.” But the way Alistair stared at her, as if he could see right through her, made her feel obligated to explain. “Just… for the dispenser in the bathroom,” she mumbled quickly, refusing to meet his probing eyes.

There was a pause, in which a confused Alistair was probably trying to figure out what she was talking about, and then he said, “Oh! In need of a sanitary napkin, are ye now?”

“Never mind,” Gabby said again, anxious to get away. “I’ll just ask Riley.”

“Ah, wait a tick now. Let ol’ Alistair take a look.” And to Gabby’s horror, the old man took her by the arm and led her back into the bathroom, where he proceeded to give the sanitary napkin dispenser a few sharp whacks, until it deposited a small, folded maxi pad right into his gnarled hand. “Here ye are,” he said, placing it in hers.

“Thanks,” whispered Gabby, mortified.

“My pleasure. Didn’t know I had magic in these old bones, did ye now?” Alistair wiggled his fingers and waggled his brows.

Gabby didn’t know what to say to that, but she managed a weak smile, hoping he’d take the hint and leave her alone.

But Alistair leaned against the doorway, stroking his grizzled mane of facial hair as he studied her. “I had a niece, ‘bout yer age,” he said. “‘Name of Hannah. Me younger brother’s girl. Sweet girl. They had a small flat in London.”

Gabby didn’t bother to ask what had happened to them. She already knew. It was the same thing that had happened to all of their families and friends. “I wish I could have met them,” she said quietly, and although she was just trying to be polite, it wasn’t a lie. It would have been nice to have another girl her age around here. The thought of what could have been made her miss Makayla more than ever.

“Aye, I wish ye could’ve, too,” said Alistair. “Well, I won’t keep ye. Ye need yer privacy.” He winked at her and walked away, finally leaving her alone in the bathroom.

Gabby quickly closed the door and pressed her back against it, sighing with relief. She wanted to pretend that whole conversation had never happened, but at least she had a pad now. She slipped back into one of the stalls and took care of business, then hurried back to the kitchen before anyone could wonder what was taking her so long. She didn’t want Alistair filling them all in.

After breakfast, she slipped away again, announcing, “I’m going to go explore.” It was a nice surprise when no one tried to stop her. They had never been comfortable with her going off by herself on the base, even after they’d cleared it of zombies. But the castle was a contained space, smaller and safer by comparison, and she supposed that was why no one seemed to have a problem with her roaming it on her own.

To Gabby, the labyrinth of stone passages and narrow, spiral staircases leading up to the many towers made the castle an exciting place to explore, and she set off at once, carrying a small oil lantern for light. She felt like Harry Potter again, prowling the halls of Hogwarts in his invisibility cloak. She wished she was invisible. She also wished she had brought the set of Harry Potter books she’d borrowed from the base library, especially when she found a little nook at the top of one of the spiral staircases that would have made a perfect place to read. Sunlight streamed in through the narrow window in the turret, landing on a patch of stone floor. Gabby sat down on the sunny spot. It was warm, like the fireplace hearth in the kitchen.

She would have been content to sit there for hours, a book in her hands, but Kevin had been insistent that she pack light, bringing only the bare necessities, which, to him, did not include fantasy novels. The only books they’d brought along were nonfiction texts and how-to manuals on boring topics like electricity, plumbing, gardening, and survival skills. Gabby knew this was more practical, but sometimes, she didn’t want to be practical. Sometimes, she just wanted to be a little girl again and daydream about silly, frivolous things.

She was doing just that when a pounding pair of footsteps jarred her out of her fantasy. Startled, she scrambled to her feet, just as a ginger head rounded the curve of the spiral staircase. “Oh!” It was the boy, Callum. He gasped and jumped back, apparently just as started as she was. “Sorry,” he said shakily, letting out his breath. “Didn’t know you were up here.”

“It’s okay. Sorry if I scared you.”

“That’s alright. What were you doing up here?” His tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious.

Gabby shrugged. “Nothing. Just sitting here, wishing I had a book. It’s a good spot for reading.”

“It’s my favorite spot, too,” Callum agreed. “What sort of books do you like to read?”

“I like fantasy,” Gabby offered. “Anything that lets me escape, you know?” She was surprised to find herself opening up to him like that, but Callum didn’t seem to think it was weird at all. He just nodded.

“I like fantasy too. Have you read the Lord of the Rings? Those are my all-time favorites.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“You should; they’re quite epic. What are your favorites?”

“I like Harry Potter… and I was reading the Redwall books back on the base. Being here makes me miss those.”

“Those are good, too,” Callum agreed. “I have my Tolkien books here, if you want to borrow them sometime.”

Gabby’s heart lifted. “Do you? I’d love to… I didn’t get to bring any books with me.”

“I couldn’t leave home without them. After my parents died, they were the only thing that brought me any comfort.”

Gabby was confused. “Your parents? But… isn’t Abby…?”

“Oh, Abby’s not my mum,” said Callum matter-of-factly. “She found me, sometime after the zombies rose. She’d lost her own son, so she sort of took me under her wing, and we traveled here together.”

“Oh.” Gabby couldn’t hate Callum anymore, not when she suddenly felt so connected to him. He was just like her. She thought of Kevin, who had become like a surrogate father to her, especially since her mother’s death. She supposed she was lucky to have him, the way Callum had Abby. At least they weren’t alone. “I’m sorry about your parents,” she offered.

“Thanks.” A sad smile flickered across his freckled face. “Sorry about yours as well.”

“How did you know my parents were gone too?”

“Well, none of the people you came with could be your parents. They don’t look like you, and none of them seem old enough. So I just assumed…” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

She shrugged, too. “It’s okay. My dad died before all this stuff started. My mom was immune, like us, but then zombies attacked our base last October, and… she was killed.” I killed her, she thought, but of course, she didn’t say it. It was an accident… she understood that now, even if she still blamed herself.

“Sorry,” Callum said for the third time. Gabby nodded, as an awkward silence descended upon them. She lowered her head, hiding her face behind her long hair, but through the black curtains of hair, she couldn’t help but sneak a peek at Callum. He was staring out the window, squinting in the sunlight, which gave him a look of intense concentration, even though he was probably just spacing out. The rays of sun seemed to set fire to his hair, making it gleam like the copper of a shiny, new penny. With that red hair and those freckles, he looked a little like Colton, who had kissed her on the beach in another lifetime. Watching him, Gabby felt wistful.

She cleared her throat, wanting to lift the heavy silence. “So…” she said lightly, smiling a little as he looked back at her. “Where do you keep those books of yours?”

***