 
# **Sand,**

# **Sea,**

# **Zombies**

# **Sand, Sea, Zombies**

by Blackpool & Fylde Wrimos,

&

Lancashire & Cumbria Wrimos

at Smashwords

2016

**ISBN:** 9781370751815

**Copyright © Jacquera Black, Rowanne Carberry, A Isaac, Deb Jacobs, Leigh Keating, Mark Keating, Bec Pearce, Richard Southworth, Glenis Stott, Angel Wedge (Blackpool and Fylde Wrimos, Lancashire and Cumbria Wrimos)**

**All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, made sentient, duplicated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means except by the permission on the author.**

**All characters in this book are entirely fictitious and any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.**

Cover designed by The Dog Ate My Bookshop (http://www.thedogatemybookshop.com/). Original images have been modified and adjusted. Some artwork is based on the images:

https://morguefile.com/search/morguefile/1/blackpool/pop

&

https://www.flickr.com/photos/stinkiepinkie_infinity/10159454363.

The copyright holders, photographers and site owners do not approve, condone or otherwise endorse any changes or usage of these pictures for this cover or any other associated reproduction in any form.

Please see licences:

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https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/.

All rights reserved.

#  Introduction

Can a writer steal another writer's idea? If the first writer shares an idea for a story, an idea the second writer decides to run with, will they write identical stories? That was the thought behind writing our zombie stories, if we all started with the same, would we end up with the same? So we all decided to see if that would happen, we'd start at the same place, with the same information, a male character named Ed, a female character named Lily, set in Blackpool, on a rainy afternoon, and the story would be about a zombie attack. The stories in this book are the result of that experiment, all very different, and pointing to the fact that ideas cannot be plagiarized as each writer will write with a different slant.

Jacquera Black
Contents

Introduction – Jacquera Black

Towered – Jacquera Black

Not Another Zombie Story – Rowanne Carberry

The Black Poole – A Isaac

Zombietown – Deb Jacobs

#Zombies – Leigh Keating

the violence calls up silence – Mark Keating

The Pier – Bec Pearce

Day One – Richard Southworth

Deliteful Donuts – Glenis Stott

Remains – Angel Wedge

# Towered

by Jacquera Black

There was a time when Blackpool Tower was packed every day, filled with people having a good time. Television shows were filmed here, right in the ballroom where people danced, and clapped and laughed. But I am the only one here now. I'm the only one who gets to see the golden sculptures in the ceiling or the paintings of dancing men and women just below.

I walk over to the pipe organ set on the stage, press one of the keys and listen to the hum of music as it reverberates through the room and vibrates through my feet.

When I was little, I used to sit here as Mother played the organ. She'd sing nursery rhymes, and pop songs, and tell me about what life used to be like. And warn me that the world was a dangerous place.

That I should never, no matter what, leave the Tower.

She leaves though. Every few months, she goes to get supplies, and I am left all alone. But this time she's been gone far too long. I haven't seen her for weeks and I'm starting to get worried.

My stomach rumbles so I head out of the ballroom to the kitchen, walking past the door which leads to outside. The door which is always locked, has furniture piled up in front of it, and is rattling as someone tries to open it.

'Mother.'

I hurry forward and start pulling the furniture to one side. 'I am so glad you are back. I've been so lonely without you. I was starting to think something had happened to you.' Moving a chair from underneath the handle, I turn the key in the lock and start pulling back the bolts. 'The food has nearly all gone, Mother. I know you've always said I shouldn't leave the Tower but I was thinking I'd have to.' I yank the last bolt out of its slot and fling open the door.

A boy with a head of knotted curls and a bruised face pushes past me.

'Who are you?' I put my hands on my hips as I stare at him.

'Shut the door.'

I ignore him and lean out of the doorway, rain coming through a broken window soaking my long hair.

'I said shut the door.'

I look back at him. 'Where's my mother?'

'I don't know but you need to shut the door.' He steps toward me and tries to push me to one side.

'What are you doing?' I shout, trying to keep the door open. 'We have to wait for Mother.'

'Then sit right down where you are and wait but this door needs to be closed and locked.'

'No, it needs to stay open. You don't get to decide what happens. This isn't your home.'

'I don't care whether it is or not.' He slams the door shut.

'Hey.' I pull at his arm. 'You can't come in here and...'

'Look, I'm sorry but your mother isn't coming. She's probably not even still alive.'

'Of course she's alive.' I try to yank open the door before he can bolt it. 'And she'll be here any time.' I glance at him. 'Why would you say that she's not alive?'

'Because.' He waves his arm toward the door.

'Because what?'

He tilts his head to one side. 'Are you winding me up? Surely you know... you've got to know... how could you not?' A frown twists on his face. 'But you don't know do you? You don't know about...'

'Know what?'

'How dangerous it is outside.'

I snort. 'Oh that. Yes, I know how dangerous it is outside. Mother's told me enough times. But you've been out there and are all right. And she's been out there loads of times and has always come back.'

'Until now.'

'She'll be back and then she'll kick you...' I sigh. 'You know; I don't believe any of it is true. You're only saying it is dangerous because I'm a girl. Well I might be a girl but I can look after myself.'

'I'm sure you can.' He rubs his stomach. 'Look as much as I am enjoying talking to you, I've not eaten since yesterday. I heard you mention food.'

'And?'

'I wondered if I could have some. To be quite honest, I'm so hungry that I would eat the wasted food from your bin if there wasn't anything else.'

'There's...' I stop speaking as I stare at the boy. A stranger to me. I've never met him before, do I really want to let him have any of the food? There's not much left. Mother wouldn't have had to go looking for supplies if there had been. I open my mouth, about to say that it is all gone and then shut it again.

'Well?'

'There's some food, not much, in the kitchen. You could have some of that.'

He smiles. 'Thank you. Not many people nowadays would share their food with a stranger, especially when they don't have much.'

I shrug my shoulders.

'I'm Ed by the way. What's your name?'

'Lily.' I point at the door which leads to the kitchen. 'You'll find the food in there. I'll let you get it yourself. I have something to do.'

'Fine with me. Do you want any?'

'I'll eat later.'

He nods his head and heads toward the kitchen.

I wait for him to go in, before quietly opening the outside door and walking out to the top of the stairs.

I am going to prove that just because I'm a girl, that doesn't mean that I can't cope with the outside world, even if it is dangerous. And not only that, I'm going to find Mother. And I'm going to rescue her from whatever is keeping her from me. I'll be a hero and then maybe Mother will stop treating me like I'm a little girl.

I grab hold of the rail and try to not slip on the green mouldy stairs as I make my way down.

I don't really remember outside too well. I was so small when Mother brought me to the Tower that my memory is blurred. But it didn't look anything like the scene I see now. It's still raining. Thick droplets of almost grey water are cascading from the sky and splashing onto the broken up pavement, weeds growing in the cracks. The shop windows are boarded up in places, in others jagged panes of glass are strewn with bits of coloured material and rubbish.

'You don't want to be out here,' a voice says.

I turn around to see Ed behind me.

'Yes I do,' I mutter. 'And it isn't just that I want to be out here, I need to be. I need to breathe the air, I need to feel the wind blowing through my hair, and the rain on my skin. I need to see somewhere different and I need to find Mother.'

'It's too dangerous. Please, Lily, come back into the Tower. We're not safe out here.'

'If you're so scared, you should go back in.' I bite my lip to stop myself grinning. 'Go on.'

'No, I can't. I can't leave you out here. And yes, I am scared. I know what is out here. You'd be frightened if you knew.'

'Well let me find out then. Let me decide for myself that the outside world is dangerous. Unless I see it with my own eyes, unless I experience it...'

'You experiencing the world a bit too much is what I'm worried about. There are monsters out here, zombies, and if you're not careful, you'll meet one.'

'I'll be careful. I'm not an idiot you know.'

He sighs. 'I never said you were, but I am. I'm not going to let you wander around out here on your own. I'm going to have to come with you.'

I feel quite offended. It's not like I need protecting. I can do that myself. Any monsters better be scared and stay away. They won't like the alternative.

'Go back to the Tower, Ed. I'll be fine.'

He shakes his head. 'If you want to go for a walk, then I'm coming too.' He steps away from the Tower. 'Come on, the sooner we get moving, the sooner we can do whatever it is you want to do and then find somewhere safe to hide.'

I follow him, jumping over the bigger cracks in the pavement and avoiding the festering overturned rubbish bins.

'So what are these monsters like?' I ask.

'Pray you never find out,' Ed responds. 'They aren't pretty but what they do is far worse.'

I glance at him. 'What do they do?'

He shudders.

'It can't be that bad.'

He stops walking and turns to look at me. 'I saw my little sister attacked by a zombie. They bit her, ate her, but what happened later.' He wipes a tear from his cheek. 'What is bitten by a zombie becomes a zombie, that's what happened to her, she turned into one of them. And then she came after the rest of my family. I'm the only one left.'

I don't know what to say to that. What can I say? The monsters sound horrifying, but are they real? I've never believed in monsters. I have always thought of them as fairy tales like the books Mother read to me. But I don't think Ed is lying. Which means he must be mistaken. He thought he saw something, but what was really happening was something else. 'I'm sorry,' I say, mainly because he looks so sad. 'That must have been hard.'

'It was a long time ago. Only a few years after it all started. My parents tried to protect us, like your mother protected you, but they weren't as good at it.' He shakes his head. 'It's no good thinking about the past. I can't bring them back.' He looks down a road toward the sea. 'I doubt your mother went for a paddle so I think we should carry on down this road and then go up Talbot Road until we reach the old train station. I've heard there's a group of people living there. If we're lucky, they'll still be there and will have seen your mother. She might even be with them right now.'

'Are you sure? Mother never said anything about anyone living near to us.'

'I don't know, but...' He puts his arm out in front of me.

'What?' I ask. But then I see what. Before us is a woman, but she doesn't look anything like me or Mother. She is wearing a ripped and dirty dress and the rest of her is filthy too. Her hair, what little she has left, hangs in knots around her shoulders and she only has one arm. But it isn't her appearance which is most shocking, it is the fact that she is crouched down by a body, ripping up strands of flesh with her fingers before stuffing them in her mouth.

It seems that Ed was right. There really are monsters.

'We need to go back,' Ed whispers. 'We don't want her to see us.'

I nod my head and start to turn around. And that is when I see two other monsters lumbering toward us.

I grab Ed's hand.

'I see them,' he says. 'I also see another three coming up from the promenade.'

'What are we going to do?'

'Not die for a start.' He pulls me toward a doorway. 'There's a door at the front of this building,' he says. 'I'm hoping that there are no more of those things inside, and we can get to it and to safety.' He backs up as another monster stumbles out of the door.

'Ed,' I scream.

Bending down, he grabs a broken leg of a chair from the ground. 'Don't worry, I'll fight them.'

'You can't fight them. You're just a boy.'

'I don't have a choice do I? It's either fight or die. And I don't want to die.' He waves the leg in front of him.

And then, in a whirl of grey and purple, I see Mother. Her black hair swirling around her head, a long curved sword in her hand.

She decapitates the monsters and then looks at me. 'Why have you left the Tower, Lily? How could you have been so stupid? How could you have been so selfish?' She glances at Ed. 'You should go,' she says. 'I'm taking my daughter back to the Tower, to where she is safe.'

'You can't leave him out here. There could be more monsters.'

'There probably are. But believe me, he is safer out here than in the Tower. Now come on, let's go.'

I can't believe Mother wouldn't let Ed come back with us. And what did she mean when she said he was safer outside than inside here with us? There are no dangers in here, well apart from boredom. I sigh, twist my finger around some loose fibres sticking out of the edge of the carpet. It would have been nice to have someone beside Mother to talk to. Especially as half the time she's up at the top of the Tower doing science experiments. I don't know what experiments, or why she's doing them, she's never let me up there. Just tells me the floor is made of glass and would break if two of us stood on it. But that's just an excuse. After all, who would use glass in a floor? That's crazy. I've thought about sneaking up there. Just to have a look around. When she was gone I tried to, but she'd taken the key. I couldn't even get through the door.

'I'm going upstairs to check an experiment I set before I left,' Mother says. 'If you need me, then call me on the intercom. But whatever you do, don't open that door or try to go outside again. I will be very angry with you if you do.'

I slump back against the wall once she's gone, and stare at the furniture in front of the door. The world is a dangerous place, Mother was right about that, but it's also exciting. Now she's never going to let me out there again. And I've lost the only friend I've ever had.

'Lily.' The handle of the door moves. 'Let me in.'

I hurry over. 'Is that you Ed?'

'Of course it's me. Can you let me in? It's nearly dark and the streets are no place for anyone at night.'

'I can't. Mother...'

'Please. Just for tonight. I never did get to eat you know.'

'Fine.' I start to move the furniture. 'There aren't any of those monsters out there with you?' I ask.

'Just me.'

I turn the key in the lock and open the door.

'Thank you,' Ed says, and steps through the doorway. 'I really didn't want to be outside tonight. I think I'm coming down with something.'

'Did one of the monsters bite you?'

'No. Thanks to your mother.' He smiles. 'I've probably just got a cold.' He groans. 'My stomach hurts too and I'm feeling really hungry.'

'You're hungry?' I step away from him. 'How hungry?'

'Not enough to eat you,' he grins. 'I just need something to eat, and then I want to sleep. I'm very tired.'

'You can sleep in the ballroom,' I say. 'Mother hardly ever goes in there so she won't know I let you in. And I'll get you some bedding and food too.' I shut the outside door quickly. After pushing the furniture back in front of it, I help him to reach the ballroom. 'Won't be long,' I say before hurrying away.

'Lily, did you open that can of corned beef?' Mother asks. 'I didn't think you liked it.'

'I ate it yesterday before you came back,' I say quickly, hoping she doesn't know I'm lying. 'There was nothing else to eat.'

'Lily.'

I turn to look at her. 'Yes?'

'You couldn't have eaten it then. It wasn't here.'

'I mean I was hungry today.'

'And you suddenly felt like corned beef?'

'Yes.'

She shakes her head. 'You let him in didn't you?'

'I don't know what you...'

'The boy. The one you were with. You let him in, and gave him the corned beef.' She sighs. 'I'm right aren't I? Where is he?'

'I didn't.' I jerk around as I hear something banging. 'What was that? Are those monsters trying to break in?'

'Oh Lily,' she shakes her head and pulls a long knife out of her pocket. 'Where is he?'

I stare at the knife. 'What are you going to do with that? You're not going to hurt him are you? Kill him?'

'I will do what I have to do.'

Another bang sounds through the Tower, and it sounds like it's coming from the ballroom door.

'I don't understand.'

'And I never wanted you to.' She puts a hand over her face, breathing deeply before looking at me. 'Was the boy ill? When you let him in, was he ill?'

'He wasn't bitten.'

'No, he wouldn't need to have been bitten. He was ill though, wasn't he? Did his stomach hurt?'

I nod my head. 'And he was hungry.'

The ballroom door bangs again, and then with the sound of splintering wood, opens. And Ed stumbles out, sees us and starts to lumber toward us.

'Ed?' I stare at the boy I'd met yesterday. 'Mother, what is going on? Why does he look like a monster?'

'Because he is.' She steps forward and jams the knife into his skull.

I watch as his body drops to the floor, black blood from his head pooling on the carpet. 'He wasn't bitten though,' I mumble. How could he have become that when he wasn't bitten?' I look up at Mother. 'It's in the air isn't it? Whatever turned him into that, it's in the air.' I shudder. 'And we're breathing it in. Oh Mother, I'm breathing it in. Is that what is going to happen to me? I don't want to be a monster.'

'The virus isn't in the air.' Mother takes hold of my hand. 'Do you know how much you were wanted? For years before you were born, your father and I tried and tried to have a baby but no matter what, I didn't get pregnant. Until I made a scientific breakthrough.' She shakes her head. 'How could I know that it would give me a child who would...?' she sighs.

'What?'

'The virus. The monsters. All that has happened. The destruction of the world. It all came from you. You are the virus, anyone but me who gets close to you, they get infected. You are the source of the monsters. The zombies are here because of you.'

Jacquera Black is a pen name, the person behind it lives in Blackpool with two teenagers, and is currently editing. Something. Hopefully. But editing is hard. And procrastinating on Facebook is so easy.

#  Not Another Zombie Story

By Rowanne Carberry

I always knew my life would end when I wasn't looking my best. I always thought I would be murdered. I don't know why I believed that; I suppose it's because I've got such a morbid and twisted mind. I may not have been murdered in the way I assumed I was going to be, but I still like being able to say I was kind of right.

I'm not a ghost. I was murdered, I was reborn. When I died, I turned into something new, something that I never believed existed and laughed at all those people who said they did. It's nothing cool like a vampire; they don't exist as far I'm aware. No. I turned into a zombie as part of some stupid zombie attack that the nerds were always warning us about and none of us ever believed. Well, it happened and is still happening.

Let me take you back to the start of it all. It was a miserable Wednesday afternoon (since when do life changing events happen on a Wednesday afternoon?) It had been a nice morning, a warm temperature, which is rare for Blackpool, the sun was shining and it was finally beginning to feel like summer. It was a half term so I had absolutely nothing to do, well ok, I had university work to do but that doesn't really count. I arranged to meet my friend Katy for afternoon cocktails. I dressed in a pair of cut-off jeans and an old tank top, threw my hair up in a messy bun, applied the bare minimum of makeup and off I set.

Well, it certainly didn't stay nice. By the time, I'd gotten to the Central Pier I was soaked. My clothes were clinging to me, my shoes felt like they had a lake inside of them, my makeup was smudged and my hair probably looked like a dead rat. Katy didn't look much better though which made me feel good. We ran into the bar and quickly ordered ourselves two pitchers of purple rain cocktails, as they were on offer, and began to drown our sorrows at the weather

It wasn't long before we were feeling decidedly tipsy and that it would be a good idea to walk down to the Pleasure Beach and go on some of the rides whilst it was less likely to have massive queues with people hiding from the rain. I checked the time on my phone and saw that it was half two exactly, quickly putting it away so it didn't get drenched, we continued laughing and stumbling our way down the promenade. That was when we heard the first screams. We looked at each other in silence and then burst out laughing.

Everything seemed eerily quiet as we crossed the road. Even when it's raining people are still generally on the rides and you can hear the laughter and screams from miles away. I had a weird feeling that something was going to happen; I was just about to turn to Katy to suggest we go back to mine when I heard the screaming again. It was a different type of screaming to usual. This was the type of scream that stopped you in your tracks and turned your blood to ice in horror.

Turning to Katy I was just in time to get a splatter of blood across my body and face as her throat was ripped apart from behind. Her eyes went wide and her mouth was moving like a gasping fish. Blood began to gurgle from the hole in her throat and seep from the corners of her lips as she slowly fell to her knees.

Behind her stood a man whose hands were dripping with blood. I watched in horror as he lifted his hands to his mouth and started sucking the blood off his fingers, closing his eyes in pleasure and groaning as his throat worked to swallow the liquid. My brain had stopped working; I couldn't take in what I was seeing. My best friend had just had her throat ripped out and the person who did it was in an orgasmic state. As my mind started to process the scene, I could hear more screams coming from all around me, looking around I saw people were running and being chased, some were falling and being jumped on by those that were chasing them and, when they were jumped on, they were eaten.

Someone ran past me and seeing that I was just standing there they came back and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me after them whilst screaming at me to run. My adrenaline finally kicked in and I started running with them, but I wasn't looking where I was going and I fell over the body of one of the fallen. The person that had tried to save me didn't even seem to notice, they just carried on running. I don't blame them; I think I would have carried on running too. They'd tried to rescue me, but you can't save everyone, I just hope they got away and are still living.

I was just pushing myself up when I felt more hands on my arms pulling me up. Looking at the person who had helped me, this time, I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed into their arms.

'Oh Ed, thank god.'

The arms tightened around me.

Lily, I'm glad I found you.' I looked at him to tell him we had to get moving when I noticed the red tinge to his eyes and the feral look to his face. That was the last thing I noticed before Ed lowered his face to my neck and took a chunk out of it.

And that was when I died.

Somehow I woke up. I woke up changed. I'd gone from being Lily the super student to Lily the zombie.

So now you're caught up on how I became a zombie. I'm still not sure how the attack actually started, or why they picked Blackpool of all places to start it. Maybe it's because it's already full of people that act like zombies half the time? All I know is that it ended up being a worldwide attack and now zombies and humans are living in an uneasy truce across the world.

I say an uneasy truce, as we still need to eat, and the humans let us in moderation, or they know what we would all go on a full out attack again and kill them all. They give us the people that are in jail for murder, rape, and paedophilia.

I keep saying 'we', to clear this up, I am not a part of this collective we. I make a rubbish zombie. You'd think being turned would do the same thing to me that it did the others, take away some part of my humanity that would make it easier to kill and eat people, but it doesn't. The first time I ate someone was because I was starving. I'd only been turned a couple of days and I had been forced out on an attack with some of the others. The smell of the blood had been overwhelming and before I knew what I was doing I was on my knees with my face shoved in someone's belly tearing at their flesh with my hands and teeth. I was sucking on an intestine like it was a piece of spaghetti when the body moved.

I stopped with one hand still buried in the stomach and looked up to see the blood smeared face of a child staring down at me with a look that I will never forget. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated, mouth stuck open with a scream that would never come. He took one last shuddering breath and the stomach shuddered around my hand and then he died. With one hand in his stomach and an intestine in the other. I promptly threw up, in the open stomach wound and then I sat in the middle of the street and cried tears of blood.

I haven't touched another human since, and that was before the truce came into play. Even though it's now absurdly legal to eat people, I still can't eat them. The craving for human flesh is still there, the smell of blood intoxicating. However, even the thought of eating another person is enough to send my stomach into revolt and blood to come pouring out of my eyes.

I'd tried not eating anyone for a while after the first murder but the pain was unbearable. Fire sung through my veins, my head felt like it was being continually crushed between a vice. I began to fade. As I faded it got harder to control my impulses. The other zombies stayed away from me, I think they were afraid that the fading was contagious. No one else seemed to have any problem with what I saw as murder; they all seemed extremely content to carry on until they'd had their fill. One day when the pain was so bad I could hardly see I went out in the middle of the night, I was walking down the promenade trying to stay in the shadows so no one would be able to see me. I'm not sure what they would have thought if they did see me, my skin is drawn and pale, I had bags under my eye. I was wearing ripped clothes. The best bet with it being so dark was that they thought I was some homeless addict. Well, that would have been the best bet for most people, my hope was that someone would recognize what I was and kill me, I wanted to die but I was too much of a coward to take my own life. That's why I kept hidden in the shadows.

There are two reasons I didn't fade. The day after my night time stroll I couldn't take it anymore, everything had become unbearable; I'd gone out with the intention of finally giving in and eating when I came across a dog that looked skinnier than I was with mangy fur. I don't know why but it came over to me, most animals had stayed away since I'd changed but this little fella had come right on over to me, sniffing at my hand. I ate him. I couldn't stop myself, and it started bringing me back to me. I stopped fading, the thirst was quenched and even though I still hated myself, it was easier to eat stray animals than it was to eat humans.

The other reason I'm still here?

I decided to murder Ed for murdering me.

Well yes, I suppose you could get picky that he hadn't really murdered me as I'm still here talking to you, but he did kill something in me that I was never going to get back. He changed my life, and others, for the worst. For that, he deserves to die. Properly this time. I thought I would start my plan by trying to get away from the rest of the zombies and going home. Maaaan was that a bad idea. My mum opened the door and screamed until my dad came running downstairs with a gun in his hand, I didn't even think he knew how to shoot a gun, let alone own one. When he saw me he wavered for a second and then held the gun to my face and told me that if I didn't leave, he would shoot me. I left.

The only place I could go where I would be safe was back to the Winter Gardens. We'd taken over there pretty early on in the attack and now that's where most of the zombies in Blackpool lived. It was convenient and big which is exactly what we needed. Obviously, we didn't all live here; some had taken over houses where there was no one left alive, others had gone back and turned their families and they still lived together.

It has now been five months, four days, three hours, two minutes and one second, two seconds, three seconds (you get the point) since Ed turned me. I'm sat in a front row seat of the theatre staring up at and empty stage stroking the cat lying in my lap. It's strange stroking a dead cat, not being able to purr or turn around and attack you when it's had enough, I was matting its fur with the bodily fluids on my hands but I was still finding it quite therapeutic. That was until the door opened and in walked Ed looking for me. I could tell it was him from his walk and his smell, rotting flesh with a hint of his favourite cologne, and something darker, as though I could smell the evil leaking through his body. He sat down beside me and looked at the cat in my hands in disgust because killing a human is so much better, right?

'We're going out today, Lily and you're coming with us.'

I look at him in confusion. Most of them never go out in the day, and if they do it's heavily covered in makeup, and Ed is so not one of those types. Or sometimes because a little spark of their humanity has come back, giving them an urge to do something other than eat people, this always gave me hope that we could change.

'Do you mean tonight? And why are you going out tonight? Isn't it another week before you due to eat? The council won't have anyone ready for you tonight.'

He just looks at me like I'm dumb and a horrible thought starts coming to my mind. I'd been hearing whispers of what I thought were just idle threats over the last few weeks. Zombies getting restless and fed up of doing what they were told. Most don't think like humans you see, I've only met two more like me and they're not here anymore. The majority think like the monsters they are; only concerned with where they're going to get their next chunk of flesh from. The whispers had turned from the idea of revolting against control to taking control by going on an all-out attack. I'd thought it was just talk until now.

'You can't be serious Ed. Why would you want to change how things are?'

He stands up quickly and spins to face me, his height bearing down on me, leaning in he places an arm on either side of me, face so close mine I can see the marks on his skin and the blood in his eyes he begins talking, the smell of rotting flesh makes me feel sick.

'Because we are better than humans. Why should we be the ones forced to live as we are?'

He let go of my arms and started pacing in front of me.

'We should be out there running the world and doing what we want, not living like animals. I want to do what I choose. And I need you by my side.'

Spinning back around he digs his nails into my skin giving him blood, his smile turns sadistic and he pulls me up, the cat falling to the floor leaving me speckled with bits of fur and skin. I try and protest but my words fall on deaf ears. When we get out of the theatre I can't quite believe how many others are there waiting to go. The lobby is full, I didn't even know there were that many zombies in Blackpool, they must have been recruiting and I had been oblivious to it.

Ed was dragging me along beside him, a grip that I couldn't break free of. As we got closer to the doors the sounds of screams began making their way to my ears. We finally made our way out and it was like a scene from all those zombie apocalypse films you see, but made a thousand times worse. The streets had turned to rivers of blood. The skies opened up, flashes of lightening highlighting the feral snarl on the zombie's faces and the looks of terror on the humans, the rain felt like bullets hitting my skin and made it hard for me to stay on my feet. Ed continued to drag me until we were at the Central Pier.

He finally let go of me here and grabbed a woman as she was running by, tearing her throat out with his hands and then his mouth. He threw her to the floor turning and looking for his next victim. She was still breathing; I bent down and snapped her neck, putting her out of her misery. I saw Ed on his knees with his back to me. I quietly stalked over and saw he had his face in the stomach of a child. Memories flashed behind my eyes a clock in the distance chimed to say it was half past two.

Putting my hands around his throat, he leaned into me slightly whilst I bent down to whisper in his ear, 'Goodbye, Ed,' I told him before I echoed his earlier actions and tore his throat apart with my bare hands.

'Lily' the last words leaving his lips as he died.

It was half past two on a Wednesday afternoon, the heavens were crying and the world was running with blood.

Hi everyone. My name is Rowanne. I've been writing ever since I can remember. I had a few poems published when I was younger and in the last few months, a few of my poems have been appearing in different places! I'm releasing a YA supernatural, detective story soon and I'm working on a very dark crime novel and a poetry book. I also do commission pieces of writing. To keep up with my writing and to see more about what I do pop over to Facebook and give me a like on www.facebook.com/rowanneswriting I'm also on twitter and theprose.com@RowRow1990

#  The Black Poole

by A Isaac

A blackened claw of a dead hand pushed through the wooden planks. I blinked my eyes, blinded by the afternoon light which pierced the gloom below-deck.

'Get out! Get out son! The shipwreck's full of 'em!' Father shouted.

I couldn't move, unable to look away as a black rotting corpse broke a hole through the ship's wall in front of me. Staring at me with blood-red eyes, its shrivelled purple lips curled back, mouth opening wide baring teeth black with rot.

'Don't just stand there gawking... run!' Father stepped in front, pushing me back. The rotten thing grabbed the front of his jerkin, pulling him towards its snarling mouth. Father slashed the air with his knife, aiming at the dead sailor.

I looked about for something, anything, I could use as a weapon. A loud creak and the sound of breaking wood clanked through the vessel. The ship shifted, tipping sideways and sending us sliding to the right. 'The ship's sinking into the sand!' I shouted. I bent my knees, stretching my arms towards the approaching wall as the ship listed further. The jolt knocked me off my feet, as the sound of splintering wood against rock echoed in my ears. I was flung back onto the floor, the impact jarring my bones.

A metallic clunk: 'Damn!' Father cursed as his knife hit the floor. He punched at the corpse's stomach. It staggered back with the first blow, then regained its balance and grabbed for him again.

'Knife! Get my knife!' Father shouted as he pummelled blows into the fiend's chest, his fists making a hollow sound against its petrified flesh.

I barely heard his words over the noise of my pounding heart. I cast my eyes to the edge of the floor near to where the knife must have slid, but couldn't see for the pile of barrels that had broken against the wall. All about was littered with wood. Father went in for another low blow to its stomach; the thing swung its arms high, grabbing his head.

'Ed! Run...' Father's words turned to a strangled scream as the fiend's fingers dug into his skull.

'Father!' I called, grabbing a panel of wood that had broken off as the vessel had hit against the rock. I swung at the corpse's head, but my blows had no effect. I narrowly missed hitting Father as it jerked his head from side to side, as if to rip it from his shoulders.

Tossing the plank aside, I grabbed Father's knife from the floor and slashed at the creature's hands, skull... anywhere I could find exposed. The blade cut through the corpse's ragged linen shirt and into its soft rotting flesh with a sickening squelch, splashing thick black ooze over my hands and across the floor. I threw down the blade, and wiped my hands on the thighs of my breeches. My stomach lurched; I swallowed hard to keep down the bile that had risen in my throat.

Father gave a last cry as I watched the creature's dead hands; the bones exposed through the mottled oil-black and maggot-white skin as its fingers crushed Father's skull. His body twitched for a moment, then hung limp as the creature bit through the gaping hole in his skull and began eating the still throbbing pink flesh of his brain.

A scream echoed in my ears and skull, then I realised the screams were my own. More clawing hands broke through the wood, all reaching for Father's body. I stumbled backwards, turning and running into the grey drizzle that drained the light. The rain mixed with my tears as I ran as fast as I could, away from the monsters. My chest tightened as I cursed myself for complaining about having to eat maggoty mutton and green potatoes. Our last fishing line had been ripped up and taken by the sea, which had forced Father to take the journey to market to spend the last of our meagre coins. On our journey home he'd seen the wreck of that damned ship and thought there might be treasure.

I sprinted along the spits of sand, taking gulps of air fighting the pain at the back of my throat. I blinked back the tears blurring my vision as I avoided the thick black mud. Stumbling up the narrow path of raised land which ran alongside the gynn, not daring to look back over my shoulder, I pumped my legs hard, ignoring the painful beat of my heart and the pain burning my lungs as I struggled to breathe. I was now at the Black Poole, its inky waters surrounding me eddied and rippled with the wind, casting grim shadows beneath its surface; masses of rotten corpses rising from the fetid water. I pummelled my legs harder and pushed out my chest, ignoring the pain of a stitch in my side as I fled the crew of dead.

The lake opened up into the clear deep water of Marton Mere, after a half mile, the marsh on either side became a solid path, with trees to the north and east. I slowed my pace as I neared the dirt track through the small rise of farmland that marked our home. My stomach rumbled; Father and I should have been home now, having a late dinner of mouldy cheese and stale bread. I did not stop; with Father gone I had no one; the thatched hut was no longer home. I ran into the sparse wood towards our only neighbours. I half laughed to myself; in any other situation I would be running in the other direction. Hag Maud could be almost as terrifying as the dread creatures. I stumbled into the hovel in the clearing, almost running into the hearth set in the middle of the single room. The old lady stood to meet me with the business end of her broom, holding it up at her shoulder, about to run me through with the wooden shaft.

'I said you always bring trouble, lad... go or you'll be in a whole lot more!' Maud said, her voice steady, her clear grey eyes piercing me with a flinty stare.

'I... my Father... we found a wrecked ship; a caravel...from Spain... so Alard Walter said. It's out past the gynn... there's dead bodies... walking...' I said, as I circled the fire. The end of broom levelled at me did not waver as she kept pace.

'Ain't natural. That's what I call it,' she said, wrinkling her nose and spitting on the ground.

I'd guessed you'd be behind this...I not long heard the bells at St Chad's strike Nones, yet look...the sky's turned black as pitch. You and that Father of yours have cursed us all, meddling with that peculiar ship!' she shouted lunging forward as she shoved the bristled implement hard into my breastbone, sending me stumbling nearly out the door as I'd made full circle around the fire.

'I told you to stay away so away you go!' Maud stood over me, broom still in hand.

'I can't...won't... go. There's nowhere to go...We've got to stop them...' I'd regained my balance and stood my ground, facing the old woman square on.

'I know exactly what you and your damned Father have done... meddling in stuff... suppose he was looking for pirate treasure...' she said, pressing home each accusation with another prod of her broom.

'Gran stop! It isn't Ed's fault... how was anyone to know!' I turned my head to see Lily standing behind me at the door. She was framed against the flickering light of the fire, which outlined every contour of her face and turned her blond hair white, making her appear far older than her nine years; like a miniature version of her Grandmother.

'Give him the book and he can be away! Let him sort out this mess, if he hasn't already cursed us all!' Maud screamed. I gave an involuntary jump at the sight of her gaunt

face, her nostrils flared and blackened needle-sharp teeth, turned to a death-mask in the dancing light from the brazier.

Lily held the small book clutched to her chest. '...but Gran... you know Ed can't read...'

The old woman stood quiet, her face slack as she looked into the flames.

'Gran...'

'I know... I know, child...' Maud said, her voice a harsh whisper. 'I know... you must go with him...' Maud sighed as she lowered the broom, leaning her weight on it for support.

'Now get out the pair of you!' she shouted, turning her back to us as we went out into the gloaming afternoon.

Lily clung to me as we crossed the maze of narrow sand-spits, trying to avoid concealed quick-sand which made the dangerous path towards the black beacon of the tree stump which stood alone in the inky sea. The light from the lantern flickered, I could barely see under the moonless sky. Darker shadows were cast across the beach, moving alongside our path.

'I'm frightened,' Lily said, clinging to my waist as a gust of wind through the tall grass whistled over the dune ahead of us.

'You'll have to let go a bit... just hold my hand.' I struggled to hold the lantern straight in the growing wind.

Lily started crying. Her grip tightened, her fingernails digging into the flesh of my palm.

'The path's too narrow... you need to walk behind....' I said as I edged towards the sand bank. Lily whimpered and tugged me back by my shirt sleeve.

'We must move...the tide will be turning soon!'

'No, I want to go home... I don't like that scary mast; I've seen it move...'

'It's just the shifting of the sand...come on...' I said, trying to pull her forwards, but Lily stood fast, forcing the top half of my body to twist towards her so I lost my footing on the shale which shifted under my feet. Trying to keep my balance, I took a step back, but too late. I fell onto my back, dropping the lantern and sliding towards a pool of quicksand, sending Lily tumbling in. As she grabbed my legs, her weight pulled me feet-first after her.

'Ed!' Lily shouted. I heard a thick soft sound as her body broke through the surface into the heavy wet sand. I dug my hands into the soft ground, just stopping my whole body from being dragged in.

'Hold on Lily!' I said, my voice faltering as I braced myself against the ground, each muscle of my body burning with the strain.

'Help...please!' She said; her face was now just above the surface.

I clawed at the sandbank, grabbing handfuls of coarse grass, smelling the crisp green scent fresh over the thick rot of the mud as it broke off in my hands, slicing deep cuts into my flesh as I tried to grip it.

I clambered from the heavy mud, dragging through the sand that sucked at my boots. Lily's finger nails bit into the back of my legs as she tried pulling herself up my body, momentarily weakening my grip so we almost slid back into the mire. At last I pulled us free, I sat down to catch my breath as Lily clambered over me and sat hugging my back. Flickering shadows danced around us, cast by the still- burning lantern.

The black stump of the tree was tall as a full grown man. I had only ever seen it, dwarfed by distance, from the safety of the rock pools. According to local folklore it was the mast of a cursed ship, haunted by the souls of drowned crew; in truth it marked a lethal undercurrent, so Father had told me. Either way it was a place to be avoided, yet here we stood before it. The tide came lapping in, tugging at our ankles so we had to hold tight to its oily timber, hung with hairy strands of black seaweed and sharp clusters of bone-white barnacles which cut into the palms of my hands.

I held Lily between myself and the stump. Her whole body shivered as she gripped the front of my shirt with her clawed hands.

'Can you see the words?' I asked as Lily held the book. I tried to keep the lantern steady, but any change in the wind sent it swinging wildly on its handle, which I'd looped over my wrist so I could hold on to the mast.

'Yes... I think so... should I start?' Lily's soft voice was almost lost with the sound of the wind howling along the sandbanks and the rumble of the waves crashing in, churning up the shingle which rattled up the beach.

'Go on then.' My voice faltered. From the corner of my eye, I saw towards the line of surf. Dark lurching shadows waded in slowly with the tide. I looked away before Lily could follow my gaze; my eyes focused on the strands of her fine hair fluttering delicately in the growing gale. She bowed her head to read the book, holding down the pages which ruffled in the wind.

After a while Lily looked up at me, her eyes wide.

'Have you read it then?' I asked, unsure if the strange soft sounds I had heard had been the sound of Lily's voice or the sounds of the wind and sea.

'Yes....is anything happening?' she asked. The edges of her mouth held the slightest curl of a smile.

I looked at her, holding my breath as I turned my head towards the shoreline. I quickly shifted around, blocking Lily's view ahead. The surf was now only a couple of hundred strides away, and teeming with foul shambling figures; corrupted bodies of the dead-come-back-to-consume-the-living walking in with the tide.

'Did you read it right? Are you sure you didn't miss anything?'

'Yes... no! Why? What's wrong? What did I do?' Lily's voice was shrill and loud. She pulled away from me, as if to flee; I held her tighter for a moment.

'It's okay. It'll be okay...' I said trying to check how near the dead were without letting Lily notice. '...Here, let me read with you...I'll repeat what you say.'

I bent my head down to hear Lily better over the growing storm. She was shouting out the strange sounds I had mistaken for something other than human. My mouth and tongue struggled to mimic the unnatural raspy whispers and low guttural rumbles of her voice. As I spoke the words there was a shift in the air, I felt a hot pressure and the scent of strong ozone. I gasped as the wind whipped up with fiercer force and the sound of the waves crashing against the beach became a booming roar.

A swirling current tugged us apart; Lily did not falter, her voice steady. I stumbled as sand shifted under my feet, but she held tight to me. A gust of wind sent the lantern blowing sideways, nearly guttering the flame which faded to a point of light.

At last the spell was finished. Lily clung to the mast, eyes tight closed as her face pressed hard against the damp sea-smoothed wood, her arms hugging it. I wrapped myself around her, gripping us tight against the mast as the tide rolled in threatening to tear us away and drag us under.

Stinging sand and water lashed against my face, I forced my eyes open to watch as the cadavers were now engulfed in the surf. A wave taller than a hundred men rolled over them and onto the shore. The ground fell away from us as the mast rose up against the swollen sea. As she opened her eyes, Lily let out a scream; we were now high above the swirling of churning sea. Below, the walking dead were pulled under the surge of water as the huge wave retreated. I held Lily as the mast slowly sank back into the sand; But instead of stopping at its original level, it carried on sinking.

'Let go! Lily, let go!' I screamed. I grabbed Lily around her waist to pull her away, but she held on tight.

The horizon was a dark strip where the sky should have been; the sea had filled the whole sky. Another wave rolled in, even higher than the last. As it crashed onto the shore we clung to the mast, which carried on sinking into the soft muddy sand. I looked towards the land; all around was nothing but black churning sea. My arms were heavy and numb, as the icy water rose about us. I gritted my teeth as I held Lily up on the mast.

'The water's nearly at the top of the mast.' I shouted, sputtering as sea water splashed into my mouth.

'But where can we go?' Lily said, her voice cracking as she looked at me, her wide eyes and shining with tears.

'Swim for the shore.' I said as I coughed out another mouthful of water.

'But I can't swim,' she said, her voice small.

'Me neither, Lily,' I said, but Lily couldn't hear me as she'd buried her face in the crook of my neck. Her small body trembled against me as she cried. I swallowed hard, pushing down the lump that had risen in my throat.

A smaller wave rolled over us; I took a gulp of air before it washed over my face. I felt Lily's fingernails dig into my arm, then let go. I pulled myself up on the mast so my mouth was out of the water, gasping for breath. I squinted, my eyes stinging with the salt water. I looked about, but could not see Lily. Another wave, higher, rolled over hitting my head. Stunned from the impact I let go of the mast and was flung under the churning water. I held my breath, my chest burned with searing pain. I could not see where was up and where was down, but needed to breathe. I gasped for air, but got only salt water which coursed fire down my throat, filling my chest with a tearing biting pressure. I gulped water as I spun this way and that in the gloomy water, unable to see any light of the sky. All turned pitch black. The pain was gone. I let my body go limp, buffeted by the current, wrapped in a cold that sank deep into my bones and such a quiet that I had never heard. I couldn't breathe, but didn't need to, not any more.

A Isaac is a person of indeterminate age, who lives somewhere on the Northwest coast. Their story was inspired by local history: a Spanish ship that came ashore near Rossall beach in 1643; and the 1532 inundation by the sea which washed away the village of Waddam Thorp. The black mast buried in the sand is a nod to one of their favourite stories from childhood; 'The House on the Brink;' by John Gordon, which reminds them of their time living in the Fenlands.

A Isaac is a fan of zombies and all frights that lurk in the dark (except spiders).

#  Zombietown

by Deb Jacobs

It was raining. Again. Blackpool in the winter was always cold and damp and Sunday afternoon was no different.

'Come on Lily, let's go for a walk along the front. Maybe it'll have stopped raining by the time we get there'

'Oh Ed, do we have to? Since we moved here it has never stopped raining. I wish we'd never come'

'You liked it when we came to visit in the summer!'

'Yes, it was lovely to see Yvonne and Mark. But think what it was like then! The sea was glittering where the sun was shining on it, there were kids having donkey rides, building sandcastles, screaming as they got caught by a wave...'

'I know \- then screaming from the Pleasure Beach!' Ed laughed and the mood lightened.

'Come on then, Lils, let's go and recapture the fun we had back then. Maybe we'll bump into Mark and Yvonne - weird how we haven't seen them since October.' He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her, resisting from the chair.

'But Ed, I'm doing the crossword. Aww, don't make me...'

'Your brains don't need improving any more. Come on, let's blow the cobwebs away'

They parked the car in the Houndshill car park and wandered down to the promenade. There was the occasional shop open, selling cheap and nasty stuff for a pound, but all the seasonal shops, catering for the day-trippers, hen and stag parties and those hardy sorts who could hack a week in Blackpool were closed. Litter twisted around their feet and, as they rounded a corner, the full force of the wind blew straight off the sea, bringing the sharp sting of sand to their faces.

'Bloody hell, it's quiet! Where is everyone?' Ed's voice was ripped away by the wind as they turned to walk up the promenade.

'What? What did you say?' Lily shouted back, 'I can't hear you, it's so windy'

Ed turned his back to the wind and leaned in close to Lily's head, so she could hear him.

'I said, it's weird there's nobody around - well I can see a couple of people over there, but they look like they're staggering a bit. Must be the wind, or maybe a lunchtime pint or several!'

'It's probably because Blackpool's dead in the winter'

'Aww, come on Lily, it's not that bad. It's quieter, that's all'

'No, Blackpool is dead in the winter, but even in the summer it sucks your brains. You just have to look around at all the mindless people, staggering around, moaning and groaning or screaming because some other brain sucker is biting chunks out of them'

Ed laughed. 'Blimey Lily, you make them sound like zombies!'

'That's it! That's exactly what they are! They're like the living dead, stumbling from pub to bar to club, trying to hang on to life, to have one more chance at living. But they've failed, they've all failed. Blackpool is the wrong place for that. It's garish lights over a rotting interior, raucous music hiding screams of panic. If we don't get out now, we'll get infected too and all our humanity will be drained from us, like blood from a corpse!'

'Lily, I think you're over-exaggerating. Sure, Blackpool's seen better days \- people can afford to go abroad now, but people still love the great British seaside: kiss-me-quick hats, stick of rock, all the fun of the fair!'

'I still think you're misguided here - there's something seriously wrong with Blackpool and you just can't see it. Maybe you've already become infected and you can't see that it's a festering sore, rotten right through. I've had enough - let's go home'

Ed seemed subdued by her outburst. Sure, he knew that seaside towns always had a desperate air of clinging on to life till the tourists came back with the better weather, but Lily seemed absolutely dead set against staying here. He turned reluctantly and followed her back towards the car.

The couple they'd seen staggering against the wind were walking at an angle towards him. Lily was almost out of sight now and it might be nice to talk to someone without any sort of argument. Northerners were so friendly, he thought as the man approached him, one arm out in a welcoming greeting. He was a bit pale, Ed thought as he raised his own hand to wave back. Without warning, the man lunged and wrapped his hands around Ed's throat, pressing his thumbs so deeply in that soon blood was trickling down his fingers. Ed gargled his last words, calling for Lily, but she was gone.

The man's companion, a slight figure in joggers and a hoody, bent over Ed's still warm body and began to suck at the blood. He dug his fingers into Ed's sockets and pulled out his eyeballs, all the while laughing and making appreciative sounds, as if it were his favourite part of the meal.

Lily sat in the car and fumed. Why couldn't Ed see what an awful place this was, inhabited by lowlifes: the dregs of society? What was keeping him, anyway? She drove out of the carpark, intending to drive up the prom and pick him up. As she turned right, she could see a small crowd of people standing over something heaped on the floor. Where had they come from? There was nobody around before. Something made her stop the car and walk over. An old lady with an even older dog turned to her and said,

'Oh you don't want to look, love. It's them druggies what's been in the Gazette - they've killed this poor bloke and scooped his eyes out. Don't know what things are coming to - Blackpool used to be such a nice town.'

Deb Jacobs started to write as a child, but only found real focus during NaNoWriMo 2013, helped greatly by the Lancashire and Cumbria regional group. She prefers the Young Adult genre both to write and to read, saying there is much more choice of well-written stories. She lives in Preston with her teenage daughter and Pickersgill the cat, who might just be a shapeshifter...

# #Zombies

By Leigh Keating

'Mum! Mum! Mum!'

'Just a minute, Ed! Mummy needs to do this.' - _Facebook quiz to check which Strictly celeb I'm most like_ , Lily added silently, flicking through the questions on her phone.

'But Mum, there's zombies coming down the prom!'

'No there's not,' said Lily. 'They wouldn't be coming to Wetherspoons, would they? They drink blood.' Flecks of rain dropped on the phone screen. She tried to wipe it clean and accidentally picked 'Ghostbusters' as her favourite 80s movie. 'Damn it.'

'Brains, Mum. Zombies eat brains.'

'Ed, eat your lunch.'

'I finished my lunch ages ago, it's starting to rain, and there are zombies coming. Can we go inside now?'

'In a minute.' _After I've shared this hilarious lolcat. And I've probably got time for another ciggy,_ she thought. Ed tutted loudly as she lit up another cigarette. Lily didn't need to look at him to know he would be glaring at her. The last thing she wanted was a scolding from an eight-year-old, so she just didn't look.

'Mum, you're not listening about the zombies, are you?'

'Ed, this is Blackpool,' she sighed, 'it's a stag party.'

'At 2.30?'

'You believe in zombies but you don't believe men drink in the afternoon?' _Ooo, 23 photos of bricks that will change the way you see the world..._ *Click*.

'They've just ripped a guy's arm off!'

'They're buskers then! Just sit back down. Why don't you do some colouring?' _Oh, I haven't checked what Katy Perry's tweeted today..._

'Mum, they're locking up the pub. We've got to go inside now.'

'They're not locking the pub, Ed. They're just shutting the doors because of the rain.'

'Or the zombies.'

'There are no zombies.' _Retweet Katy Perry..._

'They're moving tables in front of the windows!'

'Ed...'

'Mum, _please,_ just come inside.'

'Yes, Ed, in a minute, when I've finished this,' she said. _Reply to Katy Perry 'OMG, that's so true! #YOLO'._

'Fine,' said Ed. 'I'm going inside. I'm not getting eaten by zombies.'

'Yes, fine, go! I said I'll be right there.' _Just need to see if Katy has replied to me. Nothing yet, but she's famous, she must be busy._ Lily finished her cigarette. She should probably go inside now. Ed would be waiting. She could just check twitter one last time though. _Hmm, that's weird. Why is #zombiesinblackpool trending?_

Leigh aspires to be a writer/psychologist/rock star. She writes novels, scripts, short stories and can speed write flash fiction on anything in under 30 minutes. She lives in Lancaster with her husband and three young sons. She's currently completing her MSc in Psychological Research Methods while trying to decide which novel to edit first.

She may have to compromise on the rock star thing.

Twitter: @LeighKeating

Website: www.leighkeating.me

#  the violence calls up silence*

by Mark Keating

Ed looked into Lily's eyes and saw nothing, nothing of her, nothing of what she once was. Once her eyes had been filled with laughter, love, intrigue and sometimes sadness. Her eyes were truly the gateway to her soul, they would reflect every inner thought. In the throes of passion and in each tumultuous fight he would know her inner feeling just by looking into those green seas.

Seas, the ever shifting landscape that they both loved, it is why they stayed in Blackpool. For all its cheapness, bright lights, wailing sirens, dilapidated arcades with wind-faded signs and streets littered with bargain shops. They loved the seas, the winds, the dunes near to Lytham, it was change and decay in equal measure. Like a fading relationship filled with contradiction and melancholy. You could come to Blackpool and just let yourself merge into the miasma of broken dreams and empty promises. Here you could let things fade away slowly hanging onto a facade filled with wild smiles and madness with nothing underneath.

Blackpool seemed to stay the same whether in the days of Austerity or boom. It was perpetually icing a facade over mismanaged investments, council desires culled and ambitions slaughtered

The town survived. Every boarded shop, each for sale sign patterned with a thousand billboards and stickers, moated in vomit. Empty holes like the sockets where teeth once stood. The rest of the teeth kept all bright white and artificially straightened to hide the decay inside, the rotting core and receding gums.

Blackpool was a period piece that was condemned repeatedly yet still survived. A dinosaur with the tenacity of a turtle, out evolved but still plodding along cocooned in a hard shell. That was what Ed and Lily loved. To them it was a treasure. A peasant in a toilet who knows that even princes have to piss. Blackpool was not restrained by its past, it was proud and even mocking.

Blackpool saved them. It brought them back together all those years ago. They had returned to this town, near to their birth and closer to their hearts than each other and had found themselves. The fading matched the shift in their lives. The decay, hidden beneath the apologists' polish, a match for the hole in their lives.

The ever-shifting seas, the sands and the skies.

The rich pink skies of morning, the deep reds of night, had rekindled a deeper understanding. They saw themselves as a part of the tapestry, they were matched to this scene and as Blackpool's fortunes shone and dimmed, so could their love. But it still went on, the tides would never stop, the winds would blow, the skies shift and the world would turn and they could see that together.

But now her eyes, those emeralds highlighted beneath the gathering brows of age were dulled. They no longer shone. No longer danced with laughter. No longer held that love for him.

But he held no love for her.

Ed had loved Lily more than he knew. He had held her in his arms through all of life's rich melody. They had come to understand each other's needs so perfectly that they could explore the deeper relationships. He knew that he would stay with her until the end of his life, that without her life itself had no value. He just did not want it to be so soon.

Endings are inevitable, not even the universe would last forever. Lily had said that mankind's destruction was itself and she was right. It was man who made the compact with the forces of darkness and unleashed the apocalypse upon the world. It was man who sold his soul to a devil of science. It was science that created the virus and hell the creatures that caught it.

As the world went insane and the virus spread Ed and Lily had prepared for the end. They had shored up supplies and built defences and held each other in the dark as the lights all faded and Blackpool went dim for the last time. They could not hold out for ever.

The creatures did not stop, did not pause, did not feel. Finally, the barricades fell and they came in and Ed and Lily fled. They came here to the seafront, to their special place in the dunes, to look at the seas and watch the sunset of mankind.

But even here in the stillness they had come.

The creature had launched itself at Lily but Ed had got to it first. The fight that followed had been beyond belief, even now Ed could not believe his own anger, hatred and fear. He had taken the life of a woman, an infected near dead creature, but still a woman, a mother or a sister, a daughter at least.

But she had already killed him first. She had bitten his arm and transmitted her filth into him. Impregnating him with a hateful seed that would turn him into a monster. Lily had cried and held him as he started to turn and in his last moments of conscious thought. Before he became an unthinking thing, a zombie he had made his decision. They would be together still. He could not exist without her and he gave her no choice to be without him.

That was when Ed had bitten her, had sunk his teeth into her flesh drawing blood despite her screams, impregnating her one last time.

Ed looked into Lily's eyes and saw nothing. Just the milky white of death as her limbs twitched and she lurched upwards. Deep inside of him the last of his humanity went away, and milky-eyed he stood next to her and stumbled across the sands.

(* Zombie, The Cranberries)

Mark Keating is a Lancashire-born, Lancaster-dwelling, individual of roughly five decades. Although he identifies as male and British he otherwise refuses to be easily defined. Mark is an advocate of; change, equality, aspiration, opportunity and community. Mark is by equal turns married, parent, pet owner, omnivore, writer, dreamer and child.

# The Pier

by Bec Pearce

Lily knew she had to get off the street. The smell of rain was in the air and the creatures seemed to like the rain. Maybe it was something about the sound all around them, they were always attracted to any kind of sound. Lily learned that when her phone had gone off with a spam text message offering to get her compensation from the car accident she had never had. She had shut herself in an abandoned taxi and waited until another sound had drawn them away.

It was quieter since this morning when the promenade had been swarming with them, but, if the piles of bodies were anything to go by, one of the roving gangs seemed to have been through again. The gangs were almost as dangerous as the creatures. More so. At least the creatures would just kill you. Lily had got into the habit of running and hiding whenever she heard the sound of an engine.

She was so hungry and just wanted a couple of hour's peace before nightfall. She looked up at the clock face on the building opposite her - 2:30pm - she'd better find shelter fast. Running quietly up to the pub on the corner she stopped and looked both up and down the Prom. She shivered as she remembered the last time she had ventured this close to the sea - there had been a rumour that a ferry had moored nearby and there would be boats to Ireland. She had been with a group of people then, and they had all decided to risk it. When they got to the sea there had been boats, boats filled with men and guns. It had been a ploy to bring the people out of hiding so that any potential carriers could be eliminated. A tall man in a black jacket had announced that the world had decided that Britain should be cleansed, that the danger of the disease escaping was too hazardous. Lily had hidden underneath a dead donkey, hidden in the blood-soaked sand until it had gone quiet. She only just escaped the fire created from the bodies of all her friends.

The lights on the front of North Pier burst into light for a second before fizzing out again. If the pier still had power, then some of the food inside might still be okay. The place scared her for so any reasons - there was no escape if you got trapped, but there were a few places to hide and as long as no one else wanted the place then she should be safe for at least the night. It was a risk, but so was staying out here. Every minute was death now. She put her rucksack on her back, took her knife out of her belt and ran across the Prom.

Ed saw her slip in the door, and he saw her stand in the semi darkness utterly confused and not knowing what to do. The pier had been left in utter confusion. The electricity was still switched on but like most of the country was intermittent. The blips of noise and lights from the games machines were disorientating, although he now heard it as a disjointed symphony.

He watched as she walked over to the kiosk to grab a Mars Bar and tear into it. She pushed more chocolate and a few sticks of rock into a bag she was carrying and then walked forwards out of the arcade. She did not want to be stuck in the darkness, she should be in the light. Ed watched as she stopped by a broken machine with soft toys in it. He did not move yet. There was no point in risking himself before he knew he could trust her. He so wanted to trust somebody.

Lily felt someone watching her. At least that's what it felt like. It could be a feeling of safety but she could not remember what that felt like. Did it feel like someone watching over you? A guardian angel? No. That would mean God existed, and he very clearly didn't. She very deliberately dragged her knife across the surface of a table, the sound louder than any other she had made in a long time. She jumped, despite herself, and fell against a broken machine. A toy fell out and she caught it. It was something from her childhood, a yellow creature in blue dungarees that had made her brother laugh.

She caught the sob in her throat and pushed it down. The feel of his body as he pushed her down and lay on top of her. Hiding her as his blood ran over her and he was torn apart. His screams... his...

No. She bent down and looked under the table, suddenly very glad of the hard wearing ankle boots she had 'borrowed' from an outdoor store. There. In the corner of the room. Please let this be the last nice person in the world. Please just a few words of conversation. Please...

Slow down Lily. Relationships were short and intense now. Everything was in a day now; if things lasted a day. She swung on a pole on the carousel, trying to portray a carefree demeanour, trying to have one moment of peace before whatever happened took place. The lights flickered for a moment and she saw his face in the mirrors as he revealed himself.

She was playing with him and Ed found that he liked it. It was a moment of levity that he hadn't felt in many months; and he could feel the pain of his losses leave him. Could he trust his heart with this girl? As she stopped and looked at him his heart felt something he hadn't felt since the day his wife...

The demons had taken his wife. They had been camping by a lake as a surprise she had arranged. She loved to swim, and even though it was not allowed, she had leapt into the lake and splashed around like a child trying to entice him in the water. He was giving in and was dipping his toe in. His wife had loved to swim. She swam towards him and... He had dragged her away and got her into the car but she died that night as no one could help. He burned her body as the government had advised. That was the day the world fell apart.

He watched as she walked down the length of the pier, looking over the edge and exploring the structures he had never really explored. He had been hiding too long, and moved into the air. He looked up and watched the grey clouds split and the gold shine down for a moment.

The crashing beneath his feet reminded him what he was doing and he fell back against the building on, holding on as the death beneath him splashed.

Lily shielded her eyes against the sun and looked back to see if he was finally coming to talk to her. The fact that he had not rushed at her and tried to end her life gave her the tiniest glimmer of hope. As his face turned to horror she started towards him and almost didn't feel the barest touch on her back. His hoarse shouts accompanied her movement as she was pulled into a dance with the ending she always knew was coming. Swinging out with her knife helplessly, the hand on her shoulder tried to pull her back. She tripped over a low bench and smacked her head on the rails. Twisting to look at the glinting water she tried to get up.

Was there hope? If she jumped...

Ed held out his hand to stop her, watching as more of the demons came out of the theatre towards them both. He could run, he could save himself, but what for? Too much time alone.

If he jumped...

Lily looked over to the man as he awkwardly climbed up onto the rail and waited for her. She copied him as the creatures pulled at her back, her bag and jacket being taken by them.

There was hope, they would make it. This would be another start. If it only lasted a day, what a day it would be. The waves looked so inviting, with the sparkles from the increasing sun, and the cool spray.

She nodded at the man and he jumped. She closed her eyes and flew, her tears hitting the outstretched arms from beneath.

Bec Pearce is a geek of epic proportions. She loves writing and reading and watching writing being performed in all its mediums. Although originally from Surrey, Bec lives in Preston, Lancashire with her husband, Neil, and their enormous dog, Jack. Neil and Bec released their first book, Nemesis, in January 2015, and hope to have another out as soon as they stop watching television. She hopes that one day she will be able to fund her book buying habits with her writing.

# Day One

by Richard Southworth

Sunday, 1st March, 2015

This is the invasion diary of Lily Bracken _(and Ed Morrison, looking over her shoulder with his own pen – we're sharing)_.

I'm starting up this diary now that the invasion proper has started – it's not just little pockets of infection from airline passengers anymore, the bloody zombies are _here_. I'm keeping this record in case it proves something useful in the future. Maybe when you're reading it, the zombies are all over Britain and you just want to find out how it started here. Or maybe it's in a museum cos everything turned out OK, you never know.

Anyway, just yesterday, we knew the zombies were going to turn up in Great Britain somewhere – on the west coast, where Ed and I live, of course, because that's the way my life works. It was a couple of days before that when the hordes in Ireland started swarming into the Irish Sea; nobody knew just where they were gonna pop up.

This was a proper job for the army because they had to spread out all over the northern end of the west coast. So we got a few soldiers and jeeps coming into Blackpool – everyone was crowding about to watch them putting up their barricades around the beach. The tourists weren't happy. The football fans were annoyed too; cos the next home game was called off just in case.

Blackpool FC would be better off with a team of zombies, the way they're playing at the moment. Or rather, were playing. I can't see the Football League being a priority anymore.

A few people we know started heading inland just in case, and Ed and I stayed up all night talking about what we were gonna do. I said to him, 'There's only a little chance they're gonna come here anyway. You think they're looking for donkey rides?'

And I said, 'Fine, we'll stay, but it's as well to be prepared.'

We ended up leaving scraps of paper all over the living room because we kept thinking of new things: what kind of food we'd need, how we were going to fight off zombies, where we'd go, whether we'd go anywhere at all. Ed went over the idea that maybe we should stay put and prepare for a siege, seeing as how everybody else would be running and the zombies would be swarming after them. Our problem was we lived on Braithwaite Street which isn't too far from the sea – right on the front line.

I suggested that if the zombies came, we should try and hole up in Blackpool Tower. Ed just looked at me funny.

I was trying to have a serious conversation – it wasn't the time for jokes.

I wasn't joking! Blackpool Tower has a few things going for it. Lots of stairs to hem the zombies in, good supplies and equipment –

I dismissed it as a) it was directly in the line of fire, as it were, and b) God knows how many people would have the same idea.

In the end, we decided Plan A would be to leave Blackpool if the zombies turned up, and Plan B would be to stay put with a few supplies: gather weapons, block the stairs and wait it out.

Yesterday, we went shopping for any non-perishable food and weapons we could get our hands on – but of course it turned out everyone else was thinking along the same lines, so we were queuing up in the shops like there was a sale on, just trying to get our hands on some tins and crackers.

I already had some idea of what to grab from survival programmes, which might have put us ahead of everyone else once upon a time – but then the Internet was invented.

By the time we were done, I felt like I'd gone walking through a horde of zombies already – but we had what we needed. We even got our hands on a pretty hefty axe from a DIY/garden centre; it felt quite fun to take a few practice swings and imagine taking a zombie or two out with it. At the time at least.

Ed and I were both knackered by the time we went to bed, but I didn't sleep too well. According to the TV, some boffins had worked out that based on the estimated speed of the zombies, they could well be turning up in England today, if it was going to happen. I was still hoping they'd take a detour and go bother Calais or something.

The next day, I was all for staying in – particularly as it looked like rain – but Ed said it might be good to head down to the sea.

'Are you mental?' I said.

'If anything happens, we'll be the first to know and we can make a move,' he said.

In the end, I went along, but I wasn't happy about it. It started drizzling almost as soon as we left home, and it carried on non-stop.

I wanted to go up and down the promenade, or as close as we could get to it with the soldiers around. Unfortunately, the men in uniform were already on edge thanks to the crowds that had turned up hoping to see some action.

But a few hours went by and there was nothing.

For the record, I did buy her some fish and chips in the hope it would make her less grumpy.

So, around half past two, we were at Cocker Square, all huddled up in our coats against the wind and the rain, and heading in the direction of our house. I was hoping maybe we could go inside for at least a little while.

I was just about to tell Ed we should do that when we heard the first gunshots in the direction of the Tower. And then – you could just about hear it over the wind - the moaning.

I remember thinking to myself, _No, no, this isn't happening, it's just something else, someone in the crowd getting too rowdy or something._ But off in the distance, we could see the soldiers hurrying, getting their guns ready...shooting towards the beach. And we could hear screams now.

Sometimes, luck can be a real bitch.

Tell me about it.

I thought then, _Oh my God, this is real._ I looked at Ed: even after all that thought and being practical, he looked like a ghost.

Do you have to put that? It makes me sound like a coward. And you should have seen yourself; I thought you were going to pass out.

There weren't too many people around us, but when they started shouting and pointing, we looked towards the sea. There was a dripping-wet zombie stumbling onto the beach: a middle-aged woman, her skin pale, her dress ripped and rotting away, her head cocked and her mouth hanging open.

The soldiers were mostly concentrated around the Tower area where the beach was most accessible, but there was at least one guy patrolling where we were. 'Stay back!' he shouted, and then he raised his rifle and blasted at the zombie, but his hands must have been shaking: it took a few shots before he hit the head and the thing went down. A few people cheered; most of the ones who weren't running for their lives already must have been too shocked to say anything. That's definitely how Ed and I were.

There were more zombies coming up our section of the beach, at least two dozen more. They just stared straight ahead, moaning and gargling – I don't know if zombies can think, but it must have seemed like we were offering ourselves up. Even more wet heads were appearing in the sea behind them. And then they turned in the direction of the nearest stairs off the beach.

I risked a glance towards the Tower. The soldiers were backing away, still blasting. I thought I could see some of the crowd coming in to help them with their axes and sledgehammers and guns and hockey sticks. But there were already a few zombies making their way up to dry land. I didn't want to see how many were already on the beach.

When a hand touched my shoulder, I jumped about a mile, but it was only Ed. 'Lily, let's go. Now.'

Didn't need to tell me twice. We just ran.

You happy now, Ed? Not sounding so cowardly?

Yes, thank you.

All I can remember about that run is still listening for the moaning behind us, and the screaming – I vaguely remember dodging a car at one point. But then suddenly we were falling against our front door, and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

When we stumbled inside and I had enough breath to speak again, I said, 'Let's go. Let's go.'

'Absolutely,' said Ed.

We packed our rucksacks as quick as we could, got our weapons and supplies together, then we went for our bikes that were standing by the back door.

I'd already discussed in our planning session how it wouldn't be a good idea to use the car in the middle of a panic. Congestion was pretty certain.

As we went for the front door, Ed was muttering under his breath, and then he said, 'Right, I think we got everything.'

'Let's go already!' I yelled.

Ed was out the door first – and a few seconds later, I heard him yelling.

There was a zombie coming through our front gate. It was a man, mid-twenties, skinny; his wet hair was plastered to his head, I couldn't tell if it was black or brown. His skin was shining, it looked slimy to the touch. His eyes were bulging, and his mouth was wide open – his moaning was almost a scream.

I can't believe I was so stupid. I hadn't thought to make sure a weapon was in easy reach.

To be honest, neither had I. His crowbar and my axe were still attached to our rucksacks. I started scrabbling to get mine just as he was taking his rucksack off and going for his – but then he dropped it. He dived at it, but the zombie was closing in, reaching out for the grab. Ed was yelling again; I've never seen him look as scared as that.

I was on the threshold. My axe was in my hand. And I just dropped my bike and launched myself.

You screamed like a barbarian.

I don't remember that. But I do remember the sound that axe made when I swung it into the zombie's face.

For a few seconds, I was still full of adrenaline. But as the zombie started jerking like it was having a seizure, and then finally went down, my head cleared and I realised I'd just smashed something that used to be human – and still looked vaguely human – with an axe. Maybe it was a good thing I hadn't been thinking about it.

Ed was beside me then. 'Let's go!'

I should point out that he did say thank you later.

I had other things on my mind; I hope you can forgive me, Lily.

There were more zombies coming down the street by the time we finally got onto the road, but with our bikes, we could easily outpace them. It wasn't too easy getting out of Blackpool or finding our way onto the road to Preston; there were cars and panicked people all over the place, we were nearly run down more than once. It felt like the world was going mad already.

But we made it. We're even more knackered, and I'm sure I'm going to get a cold from that rain, but we're alive and unscathed and sheltering in my mum's house. Now we're just keeping our TV and smartphones on and waiting for any updates.

I'll _We'll_ continue to write in this diary as things progress. I just hope it has a happy ending.

Current location: Preston, Lancashire

Distance travelled: 14 miles (checked on Google Maps)

_Zombies seen:_ 50 _100?_

Zombies killed: 1

_(THIS DIARY IS THE PROPERTY OF THE BRITISH ARMY – RECOVERED INSIDE BACKPACK ON BLACKPOOL ROAD, PRESTON, ON 8_ TH _MARCH 2015.)_

Richard Southworth's writing began at age 7 or 8 when he wrote a story about a good witch. Two decades on, he maintains a regularly updated blog, came runner-up in an online short story competition, and has participated in National Novel Writing Month every year since 2009, with tales of vampires, vigilantes, dinosaur hunters and assassin princesses. Recently, Richard has turned his hand to narration: he has currently produced two audiobooks, with a third coming soon. He enjoys wildlife watching, photography, and travelling to far-off lands to do both.

# Deliteful Donuts

by Glenis Stott

Ed and Lily, on their first holiday in twenty years, were walking along the prom, heads down against the rain. They were dressed for the weather. Lily was wearing an orange beret and a purple raincoat, an outfit bought many years ago at a second-hand shop. The beret was too small and the raincoat too large but she felt like a rainbow in it and that's what mattered. Ed had on yellow waterproofs – hat, coat and trousers. Lily used to call him her Little Lemon Drop in the early days but she didn't say that anymore.

Lily was talking. Talking, talking. 'Aw, look at the baby,' 'Have you seen that poor dog? It's shivering.' 'Those seagulls are noisy,' and 'Oh look, there's a donut stall over there.' No response from Ed. She nudged him with her purple elbow. 'There's donuts over there. Shall we buy some?'

Ed stopped walking and turned to her. 'Donuts? You've only just had a veggie burger and chips!'

'Come on,' she said, 'we're on our holidays.'

They went to cross the road but had to wait for a tram to pass. 'Look at the driver, there's something wrong with his face. What a shame!'

'Lily, for goodness' sake, stop finding fault with people. Just keep your mouth shut.'

Lily didn't mention that she had seen twenty or so passengers with damaged faces and missing limbs sitting awkwardly in the back of the tram.

The donut stall was called 'Deliteful Donuts,' and the young man behind the counter was wearing a badge saying 'Deliteful Nick.'

'Four donuts, please,' said Ed.

'Are they vegetarian?' asked Lily.

Ed tutted.

'There's no meat in them,' said Nick, 'and this is vegetable oil.'

'But sometimes they put animal by-products in these things,' replied Lily, 'I really need you to check.'

'You're such a pain, Lily,' said Ed.

'Tell you what, love, I'll put you four in to fry and I'll nip in the back to check the ingredients list. Won't be a tick.'

He dropped four donuts in the hot oil and disappeared through a door. The pair waited patiently, wind and rain beating at their backs, but he didn't come back. The donuts looked like they might burn any minute.

'Give us a bunk up,' said Lily, 'I'll get them out.'

Ed rolled his eyes skywards but he put his hands together so she could step on them. She balanced one elbow on the counter and reached for the donut dipper. She lifted the donuts out of the oil, drained them and dropped them on the waiting paper.

'Hurry up,' said Ed, 'My hands are killing me.'

Lily grabbed a paper bag and the sugar sifter then scrambled down. The donuts, slightly more brown than golden, looked and smelled delicious. Lily sifted sugar over them and sighed.

'What's up with you?' asked Ed.

'I don't know if they're veggie so I can't have one.'

'It's a bloody donut for God's sake. It won't kill you to eat it.'

'I don't put animal products in my body. It's against my beliefs.'

Ed put three donuts in a bag and pushed it in his pocket. He picked the last one up and began eating it. 'Yum,' he said, 'this is bloody gorgeous.'

Lily left the money on the counter and the two turned to go. Lily thought she heard a noise in the back of the donut stall so she turned to watch for a minute but there was no Nick.

Behind their backs, as they waited at the pavement edge to cross the road, a figure wearing Nick's name badge staggered through the door. He didn't look 'deliteful' though; one eye swung on a string from its socket and his left arm was missing. While the pair were crossing the road, this strange Nick was dipping his remaining hand into the donut batter and cramming handfuls of the stuff into his mouth.

The rain had cleared a little. They walked along the prom: Ed taking tiny bites and murmuring sounds of pleasure; Lily breathing in the donut aroma and salivating. To distract herself, she gazed up at Blackpool Tower, a building she remembered from when she was a kid. It looked different today, with its dark red metal framework glowing against the angry grey sky. She felt herself drawn to it.

At the top of the Tower, eating a sandwich and gazing down at the tiny figures and cars below, stood Millard Boden, or should I say Millard Borden, PhD, for he had been awarded his doctorate only a week before. His dissertation had been entitled, 'The Theory of Programming the Undead,' and his supervisor said it was the most original work he'd ever seen.

It was Millard's fortieth birthday. About to face the biggest test of his life, he was looking back on the twenty years of study which had brought him to this very moment. Sitting in many classrooms and labs, he'd listened to numerous tutors and lecturers explaining a multitude of subjects. He'd met many people but only made one friend over the years; he hadn't seen her for some time and had no idea how to find her. There wouldn't be a party for Millard's fortieth, no one to invite, but this event would be bigger than any party ever known and he didn't even have to cater.

Earlier, he'd entered the base of the Tower from the seafront. He'd sidled into a corner where he couldn't be seen and slipped a gas mask on his face. He'd taken a large green capsule from his pocket and lobbed it over to where the admission desk was. When it hit the floor, a dense green gas rose into the air. Millard hurried to lock and close the outside doors so no one else could get in and the sea breeze wouldn't cause the gas to disperse too quickly. It didn't need any help; this gas had the ability to permeate every crack and fissure, every pane of glass, every floorboard, before disappearing as if it had never been there. There was no escape from its toxic nature. He listened to the sound of bodies hitting the floor and jumped slightly as a large crash sounded upstairs. Stage One was complete.

He picked up the display table he'd spotted on his exploration the previous week and carried it, with the rest of his stuff, over to the lift. He travelled up to the first observation deck and lobbed another green capsule just to be sure that no one survived up there. Next he jammed the lift doors open with a specially-made wedge.

He chose his work space and dragged a couple of bodies out of the way. He set out his three laptops and one iPad on the table from downstairs and plugged them all in. He connected to the Tower's Wi-Fi and logged in to various satellites, security cameras and webcams. As the screens came to life, he shouted, 'Lift off, we have lift off,' and punched the air in victory.

He noted on his extensive spreadsheet that Trev, one of his twenty Trustie Undead, (he didn't like the term 'Zombie') had driven a loaded tram over from Fleetwood. His Trusties had a small chip inserted into their necks, a chip which stabilised the cerebellum, enabling purposeful and smoother walking, and stimulated part of the frontal lobe of the brain enabling previously stored life skills to be utilised. For example, Trev could capably drive a tram and hold a short conversation about tickets and money. Trev also carried a Taser, as did all the Trusties; the Undead didn't actually feel the shock but their muscles automatically reacted to it.

The group of Undeads transported by Trev was about two hundred yards behind Ed and Lily. She turned around and spotted them in the distance, staggering along.

'Drunk,' she said, 'paralytic at this time of the day! It's disgusting. A stag party, that's what they'll be. I wouldn't want to marry anyone who walked around in public that drunk.'

'I wonder if I should eat another donut,' said Ed, 'It were right tasty that first one.'

'Come to think of it,' thought Lily, 'If I had the chance to live my life over, I wouldn't marry anyone, full stop.' She didn't say it out loud even though Ed wouldn't have heard it – he was too busy saying, 'I'll keep them for later, non-vegetarians can eat donuts anytime.'

The pair walked on to the North Pier so that Lily could listen to the music they played. She called it 'Golden Oldie Time.' They sat on a bench near the train stop – it didn't look to be working that day, probably because of the rain. Ed took off his hat, shook it so that raindrops flew off and settled it back on his head. Lily was singing to herself.

'Lot of people down the end,' said Ed.

'Oooo, oooo, oooo,' sang Lily, 'I love yooo-oo-ooo.'

'Wonder what they're up to? Looks to be something going on. Might talk a walk down there.'

He began to stand but there was such a mighty bump and a smashing of glass that he sat down again. The Pier Train was crashing through the glass doors at the end of the pier.

The deafening noise broke into Lily's romantic dream of a faceless figure sweeping her into his arms and waltzing her around the polished dance floor of the Tower Ballroom. She watched as the train raced past them. The driver had the top of his head missing. The train went straight for a few yards and then swerved left, crashing into the benches attached to the railings. Made by the Victorians to withstand years of abuse, the railings only fractured at one point so that a segment swung open partway, like a gate. One of the train's wheels hung over the edge, spinning. The engine was still revving.

The crowd at the bottom of the pier stopped what they were doing, turned and began advancing towards the train. Ed and Lily, dithering about whether or not they needed to go to the train and what they could do about it, focused their attention on the crowd. It soon became clear that this was no ordinary crowd, this was a crowd of hideously damaged people, many of them with necks clearly broken, eyes and ears missing, great chunks of flesh bitten from their bodies. Some were crawling along with limbs missing. Behind them lay two mutilated bodies.

'Zombies,' breathed Lily, 'Give us one of them donuts.' Lily dealt with all stressful situations by an input of sweetness, usually a cup of hot sweet tea but a donut, even one that was doubtful in its suitability for vegetarians, would do at a pinch. Ed pulled the bag out of his pocket, gave one donut to Lily and had one for himself. The delicate donut aroma rose into the air and drifted down the pier. First one, then many of the Zombies sniffed the air and subtly changed their direction, heading towards Ed and Lily.

It's not generally known that the Undead have a penchant for donuts, although it has been studied in depth (see, for example, MV Borden's 2010 MSc thesis, 'The Desire for and the Input of Donuts in the Diet of the Undead.') Given a choice between living flesh and a donut, a significant majority of Zombies will choose the donut.

It took Ed and Lily a while to realise what was happening. 'Run,' they both said at the same time. Lily made it into the partially destroyed glassed-in area at the top of the pier but Ed tripped and fell. He struggled to get up, but, being surrounded by broken glass, every movement made shards of glass cut into his skin; he couldn't lever himself up without carving into an artery.

The donut had flown out of his hand as he fell. It rolled towards the Zombies, which distracted them, but, as you probably guessed, one donut into twenty Zombies just doesn't go. Lily watched through a pane of unbroken glass, terrified, as the first Zombie to reach Ed ripped off her husband's leg and slid off the yellow trouser covering like taking a wrapper off a bar of chocolate. The Zombie bit into it. Twice. She couldn't watch anymore.

Back out on the Prom, she could see Zombies approaching from every direction although at a distance. She was safe for now, but wouldn't be for long. The Tower was very near: she knew she could be safe there. She walked towards it and, as she neared it, crossed the road. When she was in the middle of the road she saw someone, an ordinary person like herself, try the doors: one, two, three, four, five. All locked. She wouldn't be able to get in.

Helplessness welled up inside her and she slumped down to the floor. It wasn't that she was heartbroken at losing Ed but not that way, she thought. Not that way!

Up in the tower, Millard was busy directing his Trusties. Trev, driving another tram, this time down at the Pleasure Beach. Howard and Chanise, in police uniform, handcuffing a young couple to a lamppost. Dolly, a nurse at Blackpool Victoria, ushering another victim/patient into the Trustie/Consultant's room. Angus driving a yellow bus full of old folk from St Annes to their impending doom.

Millard caught sight of the road outside the Tower on one of the screens. There was a tiny orange and purple figure sitting in the middle of the road. It looked familiar so he zoomed in. It couldn't be! He checked again. It was Lily, his only friend.

He couldn't leave her there to face certain zombification. He pulled his Hazmat suit from his rucksack, slipped it on and pushed his taser into his pocket. After picking up a spare suit for Lily, he released the lift and rode downstairs. It felt like it took hours but in reality it was only a few minutes.

He unlocked the front door and looked in all directions. The coast seemed clear and he moved silently and smoothly across the road to Lily. He shook her shoulder. 'Lily, quick, put this on.'

She peered up at him. 'Millard? What are you doing here?'

'No time to talk,' he replied, wrapping as much of the suit around her as he could so the Undead wouldn't smell her flesh.

He scooped her up and carried her across the road. As they approached the Tower, a Zombie staggered from the Tower Dungeon. It was a question of who would get there first but Millard armed his taser and fired, 'persuading' the Zombie to allow them into the Tower. Millard safely locked the doors behind them.

'Can you stand?'

Lily nodded and Millard slowly lowered her to the ground.

'Okay?' he asked.

'Yes, I'd just given up out there. It was Ed, he, he ...'

'Never mind, we'll talk about it later. Can you walk?'

She took a few steps and nodded.

'Let's find the kitchen, nab some supplies and I'll take you up in the lift to my lair.'

They walked along the corridor. Through a window, Lily spotted some bodies slumped over computers. She pointed and looked at Millard questioningly.

'Gas. I gassed them.'

'Oh,' she said calmly, 'what was it you used?'

He tapped the side of his nose. 'Little concoction of my own.'

'Oh, I remember you talking about it once. Cyanide as a base as I remember?'

'That's how I started. I've been perfecting it all these years since we finished the course. Have my own secret ingredient now.'

There was the kitchen behind a door marked 'Staff'. They found the coffee, some milk and a kettle; Millard didn't have enough coffee in his flasks for two. Lily went to fill it.

As the water was running, she said, 'I never got round to killing Ed, you know. Time never seemed right, what with the grandchildren coming along.'

'Shame and you were so keen.'

'And now the Zombies have done it for me. I wouldn't have had it done to him like that. My way would have been painless ... and undetectable.'

Millard nodded sympathetically. Kettle filled, they made their way to the lift and up to Millard's lair.

While the kettle boiled, Millard showed the equipment to Lily. Then they sat facing the screens to drink their coffee, Millard occasionally reaching over to send messages to his Trusties.

'Like old times,' said Lily.

'Yeah, me and you against the world.'

'Stuck up bunch of so-and-sos weren't they?'

'They were, and all because they couldn't understand how vegetarians could be interested in poisons.'

'We weren't going to kill animals, were we, Millard?'

'We were not, Lily!'

Millard drew out a large Tupperware box. 'Sandwich?' he said.

They spent the afternoon polishing off the sandwiches and a packet of custard creams as they watched the screens before them. They looked like an old married couple watching telly on a rainy day. Sometimes the screens were filled with images of the Undead walking their funny walk in pursuit of human flesh. Sometimes there seemed to be no one around until a group of people left a cinema, a hotel or the Casino, then the Undead would appear as if from nowhere. At one point, Lily saw a one armed, one-legged figure in a ripped yellow raincoat crawling along the tramlines. She didn't say anything. Nothing to say really.

Later, when the clouds had cleared and the sun appeared, Lily said, 'You've told me how you've done this but not why. Is there a reason for you creating a Zombie Apocalypse in Blackpool?'

'Because I can, Lily, because I can.'

Glenis has self-published five novels as e-books and paperbacks. She lives in St Annes with her husband and two spoilt black cats. She is retired now and, in theory, has a lot of time for writing. It doesn't seem to work out like that as she spends a great deal of time walking on the beach, drinking lattes in coffee shops or making sure she doesn't miss anything on Facebook. It's a good life.

# Remains

by Angel Wedge

Arcadia paced energetically back and forth along the ragged hem between the beach and the sea, sometimes padding in the very edge of the water, or jumping back when she began to sink in the soft sand. She stopped here and there to investigate the flotsam of the day. There was nothing particularly unusual, just some kid's discarded sweet wrapper, or a piece of tree branch from somewhere up the coast. It was enough to keep Arcadia interested, anyway. Then she found something new, a pile of clothes just starting to be swept out by the first few breaking waves.

'Arcy! Don't touch that!' Lily called from somewhere higher up the beach, but of course Arcadia didn't pay her any attention. She came closer and looked at the shirt, laying on the surface of the water now, with a pair of jeans scrunched up underneath it.

'I said get away!' Lily arrived at a brisk walk, and firmly grasped the mongrel's collar. 'You don't know where that's been, oh...' She found herself lost for words as she looked down at what Arcadia had in her mouth: a lone white ankle sock. There were a pair of trainers under the clothes as well, battered and worn, and a cheap faux-leather wallet jammed into the sand. Looking back up the beach, she could see another line of footprints, almost parallel to her own.

There was only one other person on the beach today, a young man jogging a few hundred yards away. He was wearing a high visibility vest that made him stand out even through the early-morning drizzle, but apart from that it wasn't easy to make out any details. There would have been crowds of tourists here in the high season, maybe even a few trying their luck at sunbathing, but nobody wanted to play on the beach under this curiously pervasive rain that seemed to find any tiny imperfections in a waterproof and soak your clothes from the inside out. There weren't that many tourists in March, and even if they were they'd only just be waking up at this time in the morning. Most likely they'd take one look at the grey sky outside the many B&B windows, sigh, enjoy a hot breakfast, and then decide that today was a perfect day to go in the Tower.

'The rapture really happened, then?' Lily jumped at the voice; she'd got lost in her thoughts, and hadn't noticed the jogger coming closer. His hair was just dark enough that he'd probably get away with claiming it wasn't ginger. He had an athletic figure, muscles clearly visible as rivulets of rain water chased each other over pale, goose-bumped arms and legs. He was even wearing shorts in spite of the season, though Lily couldn't mock given the failure of her own attempts at wrapping up warm. The waterproof coat hadn't worked, and the effect of wearing a thick woolly jumper was simply to hold a couple of pints of clammy water against her body.

'You know, all the Ecclesiopians think they're going off to heaven this week, we'll find piles of clothes left behind everywhere after they vanished?' His voice was thin and reedy, and he seemed a little embarrassed at having to explain his joke. Lily found that she liked this guy already. 'The name's Eddie, sorry to disturb, but I saw the clothes and thought I should say... Ah, don't worry about it, it's probably just some kids having a joke. Pretend some guys walked out into the sea, like that movie, you know?'

'I didn't think anyone else remembered that one... Arcy, stop that!' Arcadia looked up guiltily from where she'd been sniffing around Ed's trainers, 'This is Arcadia, the only person I care about enough to get out here before work every morning. Oh, and you can call me Lily.' She half expected Ed to give a perfunctory 'pleased to meet you' and jog on, but he stayed with her for ten minutes of walking down the beach and even threw a ball for the dog a few times as they got to know each other. It was Lily who had to break off the chat when she realised it was time to get changed for work.

'Oh, but I've got the afternoon off,' she said on impulse, hoping that didn't come out sounding as desperate as it did in her head, 'If you fancy grabbing a bite of something to eat, I mean. You seem like a nice guy, and I've not met so many people since I moved up here, it's always good to make a friend.'

'I'd love to.'

The rain slowly petered out over the course of the morning. Lily was looking a whole lot more presentable after changing out of her work uniform in the back room. She hoped it wouldn't be obvious just how long she'd spent carefully fixing her makeup. This Ed seemed like a nice guy, and that was all, there was no reason for her to go to such lengths with her appearance. But she couldn't bring herself to show up to meet someone looking scruffy, whether it was a date or not.

It was after two by the time she strode towards the café with a confidence she really didn't feel. She could at least be proud of her hair, though, it having dried out and changed from lank, muddy brown to gentle waves of glossy dark-blonde. She could see Ed sitting just inside the window, a choice seat with a perfect view out over the beach. But as luck would have it, the heavens opened again in the last hundred yards, and by the time he saw her burst through the door, she was back to looking like a drowned rat and dripping all over the tiled floor.

A late lunch was just what Lily needed to rejuvenate her after a hard morning, and Ed thoughtfully offered a large cocoa to warm her up after the sudden appearance of rain. He complimented her outfit, even though the weather must surely have destroyed any claim she had to style. It was amazing that they managed to get on so well, when they'd only met that morning, and everything was going perfectly for almost half an hour.

There were a couple of old folks sitting in an alcove beside the counter. The kind you get used to seeing around if you live in a town like this: they'd chosen their table years before, where they wouldn't get overly disturbed by tourists barging past or other people knocking them. A tiny table for two, sheltered from the rest of the room, where they could sit and drink tea all day long and reminisce about the old days while she did the crossword in the local paper and he wrote letters to the editor about declining moral standards in the youth of today.

This one day, however, their ritual was interrupted when the white-haired lady jumped bolt upright and threw the entire table, tea service and all, out of her way. Everyone turned to stare, but the old man was more concerned with trying to prise his wife's teeth out of his neck. You couldn't believe he'd ever been a man of violence, but with fear distorting his face he was desperate enough to grab a steak knife from a nearby table and stab frenziedly at the woman's face and neck.

The other patrons stared in shock; somebody was screaming, and somebody was yelling to call the police. The old woman stood up, apparently oblivious of the blood pouring from her wounds, and glared at the spectators. Her husband was on the floor now, crumpled like a rag doll. Nobody could lie in that position and still be alive. She muttered in a cracked voice that was barely audible. Lily didn't hear because of the crash from the window as Ed hurled a chair out. He moved like some kind of action movie hero, wrapping her in his arms and barrelling out of the window while she was still too shocked to respond.

On the pavement outside he pulled her to her feet. She was going to scream in surprise or ask why they couldn't just have used the door, until she saw the logjam of people now trying to re-enter the café. They were confronted by a blood-spattered stranger, an axe in his hands and eyes staring madly at the fleeing patrons. He was bleeding from one arm, though Lily's imagination immediately suggested that most of the blood around his mouth wasn't his own. There was something about the gaunt figure, and the clear hatred in his cold, sunken eyes. She couldn't stop thinking the word, ' _zombie_ ,' as ridiculous as it would have sounded even a couple of hours ago.

'Come on,' Ed whispered, dragging her roughly into the closest alleyway. Behind them, she could hear the screams as the axe-wielding zombie ploughed into a cluster of terrified tourists, its hunger for flesh overwhelming all rationality.

'Did that one really moan... 'brains'... It can't be, can it?' Lily gasped, nearly hysterical as they emerged onto a street where tourists were talking and shopping normally.

'I think he did. And I don't think it was a joke. It's like something out of a crazy movie, I keep thinking this can't be real, but we know what we saw. They turned into zombies, all those movies are coming true.' He took a deep breath, and changed the topic to something they could at least understand: 'Now, are you okay? We need to call the police, or the army or something, in case nobody managed it yet. And just hope there aren't more of them around.'

That optimism was short lived, as the bustle of a busy street was interrupted by a scream. Suddenly there were pedestrians on the road, no longer keeping to the shelter of the shop awnings. People were running in terror from the direction of North Pier, too, but nobody seemed to know where they were running to. Calling the police for help was no use: they were clearly swamped by calls, and you couldn't even get through. Lily and Ed soon stopped running, and instead tried to find a safe space where they could shelter for a few moments. Well before the clocks hit 3, every person they saw was running for their lives in one direction or another.

The station and the bus stands on Talbot Road were always busy during the day, so the odds were high that by heading in those directions they'd either run into a zombie or a panicking mob. Instead they headed for a refuge likely to be a bit quieter: the library. There were people – both living and dead – running between the aisles of books, and it looked like a small war was in progress. They actually saw one employee loading whole armfuls of books onto the top shelf of a trolley, before ramming it into the first zombie to come towards him. The trolley toppled, pinning the undead's legs to the ground. Ed and Lily quickly joined the man in throwing on more books. If injury didn't stop these things, then maybe a massive weight of paper would at least slow them down for a few minutes.

'Thanks,' the man in the library shirt warmly shook Ed's hand. 'I'm Colin. Looks like it's every man for himself around here, so I appreciate the assist.'

'Ed, this is Lily. Is there anywhere we can hide out around here? I'd rather not be fighting these things if there's a chance the army might come in with some way to cure them.' Colin nodded and led the way to a staircase. The upstairs of the library was a maze, and it only took them moments to find an unoccupied meeting room.

Finally, they could sit and talk. Nobody had any idea what had happened, just that some people had gone insane at half past two. The news on the radio had reported similar transformations all around the country, until every station went off air. First, people had assumed that the one they could see was some kind of psychopath. But then they realised that so many people were reacting in the same way. Looking out of the windows now, the number of zombies was slowly growing, and they looked less and less human. Their eyes came out of their sockets, and they kept on moving just the same. Where they were injured, they bled until there was no blood left, and it still didn't stop them. Pale skin sloughed off to reveal bare muscle and bone, or for some their flesh looked to be decaying already.

'It's not some kind of virus or something, or a toxin,' Colin shrugged, 'I checked online before my phone stopped working. Japan, Netherlands, America. Everywhere at once. I got no ideas what else it could be, though. Some kind of supernatural apocalypse? Aliens? There's maybe a few possibilities, but all things I would have called crazy if you'd mentioned them yesterday. Hell, I'd have said you're crazy if you mentioned zombies.'

'Shambling around like in the movies,' Ed sighed, 'Even moaning 'braaaaains', some of them.'

'Sounded more like 'remains' to me,' Colin answered, 'Though I guess that makes even less sense.'

'Can the church do anything?' Lily piped up, eager to have something to contribute, 'I mean, I'm not religious, but there are dead people coming back to life in the bible, aren't there?'

'I think so,' Ed furrowed his brow, 'In any case, vampires can't stand to look at a cross, right? Maybe zombies are the same. What's the difference, anyway?' Colin opened his mouth to answer, but then thought better of it. Whatever he knew from the page and screen was irrelevant now, at best a guess. He nodded, and took them down a back corridor that led to the back of the building.

They checked there was nobody outside before opening the door, and ran to Colin's illegally parked car. He drove like a maniac, following the back streets and driving straight at any zombies they saw on the way. They passed the Sacred Heart, which was already under siege, and found the undead forming a throng, banging on the doors of St John's and the Methodist Church. It seemed to be all the same, fewer of the creatures roaming the town and more of them gathered around centres of faith. The synagogues were just the same.

'Are they scared of something in there?' Ed speculated, 'Or is that where most people have run to?'

'Go to the Tower,' Lily cut in before they could waste any time guessing at an answer they couldn't see, 'There's a massive group from the Ecclesiopian Church holding some prayer vigil or something.'

'Oh yeah,' Colin almost spun the car on the spot, turning to give her a thumbs up as he did so. Ed closed his eyes and shrank back into his seat, but the driver didn't seem to notice. 'I saw that on the news. They want to be closer to heaven when the rapture comes or something?'

'The question is whether loony apocalypse-cults count as priests,' Ed muttered between clenched teeth, trying not to notice how fast they were travelling, 'Or even if religion can drive away the undead.'

'They're predicting the end of the world this week,' Lily answered, 'Then this happens. If one religion has to be right, I'd say their odds just went way up.' It was a sobering thought, and the three didn't say any more until they got to the Tower. It was one of the town's biggest tourist attractions, but there was nobody in sight now. Inside, there was nothing to stop them going wherever they wanted. The floors were strewn with corpses, and there were more than a few zombies in the corridors. One caught the trio by surprise, and managed to drag Colin away before they could even react. After that, Lily and Ed were more careful to be sure of where they were going.

In front of the elevator on the 3rd floor, they finally found a group of Ecclesiopians. Three priests in full regalia, a man with a bishop's mitre, and a congregation of a dozen sitting in a circle, listening to them. They turned as Ed and Lily approached, and the look in their eyes was of pure bile. The bishop raised his staff to point, and as one the group moved forward. Not one of them was alive. It was a minor miracle that the two managed to get to the lift before the zombies reached them.

'Remains,' Lily gasped, 'Damn.' Ed just looked puzzled, so she had to explain what she could remember from the news.

The posters and flyers the Armageddon cult had been circulating had beautiful pictures of a world returned to nature. Piles of clothes scattered around the landscapes, everyone who had real faith being gathered by angels and returned to the Kingdom of Heaven. This morning they'd even joked that the apocalypse prophets were wrong, because nobody had disappeared.

'We just misunderstood,' Lily muttered disconsolately, 'If you read one of those leaflets, they reckon that the people who aren't worthy are left behind – the remaining, they call them – and they all have to die before a new world can be established with only the good people. The remains have to die, but how do the believers manage that if they're not here? Or to put it another way: what do you think would happen, if every righteous soul went to heaven, and left their bodies to clean up the world?'

Ed just stared in shock, not wanting to accept that explanation but unable to offer anything better, until the lift doors opened on the ground floor and they found themselves, once again, fighting to decide the fate of the world.

Angel Wedge lives in Lancaster, where most of his time is divided between writing and walking. He has more ideas than he knows what to do with, and recently wrote a short story every day for 444 days, of which 'Remains' is № 156. Now he is collecting all these stories to anthologies, as well as working on his second novel.
