Wallis

Part two, it's tooooo long lol.


3
Me and him were sat in the car. I looked at him, we were afraid more than anything. Something was wrong, you see, and certainly not just fucking anomalous! The keys were dangling on a hook, something that wasn't there when we lived there. And even more frightening was that the car was in perfect condition. There was no rust, no decay, it was perfect.


We opened up the bonnet and there was new and oiled pieces in it. It had been kept in perfect condition. Perfect...


Well, perfect working condition.


I turned the ignition and the engine revved, like it was still new. I looked at Simon,


“Mate....”


“What?”


“There are two major issues you and I need to look at....” And I paused to make sure he was listening, “First of all, someone's been looking after this car. Secondly...neither of us can drive...”


“Well, err....let's start with the second point. There are no cars on the street nowadays, so just fucking drive slowly and carefully. And on the first point.....” and I was listening intently to hear what he said, “Let's just fucking drive....”


“Okay...” I muttered and tried to reverse. It stalled once.


Twice.


And I managed to finally get out, but I badly scraped and hit the walls of the drive. I swerved like a maniac and over judged how badly I'd need to steer, and then I under judged the amount I'd need to steer and nearly ran a still standing corpse over.


I was a very bad driver, and in a way I still am.


The land rover moved down the avenue and was going fast, then slow, then fast and slow and was swerving left and right. I finally stopped, and then looked at Simon,


“Let's fucking swap...” and needless to say he was just as bad. But he was also a faster learner than I was. I told him to go up and down the avenue three or four times to get the hang of it and slowly enough he did.


“Fuck it,” he said, “You do it now. May as well learn.” And I did. After half an hour the vehicle was slowly ebbing towards being completely in my control. Back and forth down the street we finally managed to drive at a steady thirty miles and hour.


Except we forgot something.


The first point, on my twentieth go down the street I pressed a button and rolled down the windows,


“They see me rollin' and...” I said with a tone of music to my voice, and then laughed.


“Damn that songs so old, can't even get the tune in my head!”


“Yeah I know,” I said, and looked past him through his open window. “Was that cap...blue or red?”

“What one?”


“The one that dead body had on...the one I kicked down...”


“Red, I noticed because it used to be mine. I figured it was someone I knew who I leant it to...”
I looked at him with wide eyes and he looked across.


Sixty miles per hour, three lampposts and three quarters of an hour later we had managed to get a mile away from where we were.


Forty miles per hour, no lampposts and twenty minutes later we'd made six miles from out location. Despite going over grass and fences and wrong turns and still frantic screaming, we'd managed to get away. And even in the wrong direction, we'd gone East, away from Bristol.


But we were away.


Simon got out and checked the boot of the car, I checked the back seats and even the underneath and no serial killer corpses were holding onto it. There was no one in or near the car and the corpses that lay upon the street were all skeletal and not one fresh one. I spoke,


“Shit shit shit!! What the fuck is going on? What...why? What!?...WHAT!?”


Simon was leaning against the car stiffly and his muscles tense,


“Other survivors?” He said tensely.


“No no no no.....you know as well as I do that 588 people survived in Wales. And we all met in Cardiff over the radio....We ALL met, all 588!”


“The ratio of survivors said there should have been six hundred...”


“Yes! But in England there were six thousand and twenty two survivors!! That makes up for the ratio of one in then thousand! Wales had six million, then six hundred. England had sixty million and then six thousand. See the maths...?”


“Yeah...but that's still just probability. There could be more...”


“More? More what!? It's been ten years... How would they eat? How would they farm? Who ever would be left would be less than human and completely and utterly FUCKING INSANE!!!”


And he simply looked at me. That was his answer. The perfection in their stride, their pose and their faces. It was all put on. It was all fake. None of them had done what we thought, they'd been found and dragged and put up. Some maniac had done it.


I ran my hand over my forehead and spoke with a high pitch whine,


“Oh my God, oh my God,” and I came close to crying, “What the fuck man!? What? Why didn't they just kill us or something? Why did they just wait and sit around!? Why? To scare us or something....?”


“They must've been afraid of us, solitude for ten and a half years and then we just wander in. They must've just shit themselves and run.”


“So why the boy in the cap? Why put him back up?”


“I don't know....” he said and shook his head.


“Let's get the fuck to Bristol man... C'mon we'll get to the motorway and just drive like maniacs. I hope the others cleared that up, they said they did most of the motorways so we should have clear passage. Aw man, why did we ditch the radio? Why didn't we think it useful!?”


“I don't know, fuck it. It's too late now, let's just go!” Simon said and he got into the car and turned the key. We drove off slowly but surely right we're we'd come from, West, towards Bristol.