Blog of the Dead (Book 1): Sophie Read Online Free Page A

Richard’s arms. I stabbed repeatedly, careful not to hit Polly. Richard loosened his grip on her, so I grasped Polly by the shoulders and pulled her up and back as best I could. We both fell back, all the way down the stairs, me losing the scissors somewhere on the way. At the bottom, I pushed my way clear of Polly and sprang to my feet in time to see Sam whacking Richard in the head with the Maglite. Richard writhed around, a big chunk of Polly’s long brown hair still in his hand, trying to get to his feet. I ran up the stairs, picked up the scissors and stuck them between his eyes with a grunt that would’ve made a tennis player proud.
    And that was the end of Richard.
    Sam said later that he couldn’t get me to let go of the scissors for about an hour.
     
    November 21
9.05am Day 8
Sam dragged Richard’s body out of the house late last night. He couldn’t risk going out the front, not with Mr Cat Toy still there, so he dumped Richard in the back garden. Luckily it’s totally enclosed, so it was safe enough to go out there. He took Richard right down the back, behind the shed, so we can’t see him from the house. Total respect to him for doing it. The thought of touching Richard ... Even so, I said I’d help if he needed me to, but Sam said that he could manage as long as I came out and shone a torch for him.
    I’ve suggested to the other two that we should get ourselves a car and split to my parents’ house in Guildford. Surrey is closer than Polly’s parents in Cambridge and we still haven’t heard from Sam’s family. But Sam – like my parents – thinks this is a dumb idea. He says we should sit tight and wait for help to arrive. Sam’s convinced that the army are on their way. It’s been a week. How long do we wait for help? And, although I haven’t let on to my mum and dad, we haven’t got any food left.
     
    November 22
7.30am Day 9
If you search on YouTube, there are films of zombie outbreaks all over the world. Towns and cities are worst hit, but I don’t think anywhere is unaffected. I don’t think help is coming.
     
    November 23
10am Day 10
We’re starving.
    I found a packet of Cup a Soups that had fallen down the back of a cupboard. They were well past their use by date and had probably been there since the last tenants, but we had them anyway. They were delicious.
    We’ve practically taken the kitchen apart, but that’s it now.
    No more food.
    Zombie infested street of Folkestone here we come ...
     
    November 24
10.40am Day 11
I don’t ever want to go out there again. No way. Shit! None of us wanted to go. But with no food, what were we supposed to do? Starve to death? Ok, perhaps better than being eaten alive, or bitten and infected. But while starving seems like a better option, I guess we humans have an overriding survival instinct. So, time for a day trip.
    We had a plan – sort of. Polly was to open the living room window ever so slightly and get Mr Cat Toy’s attention, while me and Sam head out the front armed – him with the eight inch kitchen knife and me, the tried and tested scissors that I killed Richard with – and, with Mr Cat Toy’s brain dead attention on Polly, we’d skewer the rotting bastard. Then head to Sai’s News and Wine down the road, nip in, grab some food and dart the twenty metres back to the house. Simple.
    Well, like the best laid plans …
    It started well. Polly kept Mr Cat Toy occupied by doing this ‘you want my fingers? Well you can’t have my fingers ...’ sort of dance through the open window. Mr Cat Toy played along obediently in a sort of ‘yes I want your fingers, oh! Where’d they go?’ kind of way. I almost felt sorry for him, it was so pathetic. Me and Sam crept out the front. I let Sam do the honours. He didn’t even hesitate.
    So, once Mr Cat Toy was down and out, Polly came out after us, carrying a pair of shears she found in the garden shed. We debated having her stay behind to open up for us when we came back, but