Chapter 9 - Dine 'N' Dash

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TATIANA'S P.O.V

It's been half a day since Lyndi's death and all I've been doing is attracting the bloody mobs, calling for the zombies to take me. Elias cradles me in the back of the seven seated car, whispering reassuring words into my hair.

But they don't comfort me in the right way. Lyndi, my childhood friend - due to die anyway - took an early and unexpected turn, leaving me more broken than ever.

And I have nothing to remember the redhead by.

Elias must let out a tear - that or there's a leakage in the roof of the car. It hits me; Lyndi filled one seat by herself - why do we even need a seven seat car if only five of us remain? More space?

"I miss her so much," I sob, deciding that the opinions of Lucien, Dyson and Cassius are all irrelevant to me right now. This hysteria I feel cannot be replaced by the hug of a boy I like of the words of a friend, but if they're willing to try and help my sobs subside, that's all I can ask of them.

Elias sighs as he pulls away slightly, tears in his eyes. "We all do," he sobs. "But she had to go at some point. Even if she survived this annihilation, she'd be dead in days thanks to that damned disease."

My mind drifts slightly - what if this entire country has to be wiped of life? What if people don't realise that people are alive now? By the looks of the Irish and French reports - that Lucien can expertly translate - it seems that the borders of the countries have been overtaken by this plague.

"We have to find our way to a radio signal, send a message to those who can save us," I blabber, forgetting to think in my own head. Stupid Tatiana...

Lucien nods from the front of the car; he now sits alone; my body threatens to release another heart aching sob. "I can contact my friends in America," he growls. "Helicopters, military guards - they can save us. But until we find that damned place that can help us contact these Americans, we're doomed.

I don't wanna lose another one of these people.

"Where are we?" Cassius grumbles - thanks to the lack of sleep all five of us received last night, we've been taking naps throughout the day. That's gonna mess our sleeping pattern up tomorrow...

Lucien looks at us in the rear view mirror. "Entering Portsmouth," Lucien says, driving through a countryside kind of place. This is why it's taken us seven hours to reach our destination. "It's about five in the afternoon now."

Dyson moans - the first the five of us have heard him speak for hours. "I'm starving, can we drop into subway?" Glancing out of the blood stained window, we see an unoccupied Subway, taintless and deserted of zombies.

"No issue with that," Lucien says, clutching his stomach with one of his hands. "But you make a single noise, you starve until tomorrow morning, got it?"

All four of us nod and whisper our replies, determined to have a fatty meal free of catastrophe. Normally, my appetite is colossal, but now it seems to have shrunk, barely holding two meals a day. However, the thought of having one of those toasted sandwiches makes my heart race, my mouth salivate.

The car is barely moving at twenty miles per hour as we pull up as close to the entrance as humanly possible. As it slows to a stop, we all exit the car through one side, leaving the doors wide open as they fit in the large doorway of my favourite restaurant.

"We have about ten minutes," Lucien says. "You'll be lucky to have a toasted one each. Grab anything that looks healthy and edible."

"I'll do drinks," Dyson says, grabbing dozens of paper cups and slamming them as quietly as he can against the machine, watching the now-flat liquid pour. Flat coal is better than no cola, though.

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