FicWad

Chapter 17.

Our feet dragged beneath us as we all trugged out into the damp London weather and into the van.
I sighed heavily, wondering where all my energy had gone. I was Frank, the hyper, sugar rushed punk rock kid! Where the fuck did that go? I felt like an 80 year old man ever since Bob's funeral, and I just couldn't shake the feeling. But the truth is, we were all different, the death of your best friend, really can't pass without change happening. We all really hadn't gotten over it yet, but no one spoke a word, except for me, big mouth.

I looked over at Lilana, she sat crosslegged in the van seat, eyes closed and iPod earbuds engaged. I smiled slightly, my seat bouncing from the suprisingly rough pavement under the tires.
Mikey scooted closer to me and put an arm around my shoulder, "Hey Frank."
I chuckled, "Hey Mikey." We both laughed, almost giggled, it felt good to not be so serious for once.

The van came to a stop and we all stared out the window at the rather small building in front of us. I sighed in relief at it's size, I wasn't looking foward to a gigantic crowd. I put my hand on the sliding door and began to pull it open, but was stopped by someone outside of the van, pushing it closed again.
"What the hell??" Gerard asked, leaning over to try and see if he could spot who the hell was denying us access to the outdoors.
I looked down towards the pavement, my veiw blocked by the side of the car, but it was good enough for me to see a man huddled beside the door, holding a gun tight against his chest. He noticed me looking at him and motioned for me to open the door.
The whole van had grown quiet and I looked around at nervous faces for some guidence as to what to do.
Mikey shrugged, "Open the door."

I slid my hand over the handle and took a deep breath before opening the door, gesturing the the man below me to climb into the van.
His eyes searched his surroundings and he hurridly climbed into the van, shutting the sliding door hard behind him.

We all watched him, inhaling deeply and shakily letting the exhale out slowly. "Soo, Ray began, breaking the awkward silence, "You mind telling us what's going on?"
"Yeah," Gerard piped in, "and make it snappy because, we have a show in like five minutes."
"NO!" The man cried out. We all sat wided eyed and stunned at his out burst. His breathing got heavy again and hot tears began pouring down his cheeks. "Just, trust me, you don't want to get out of this van! We need to get somewhere....safe" He began to trail off and let his eyes wander the van ceiling.

We all looked around at each other, unaware of what to do or say. This guy was a complete nutjob, and we had just let him into our van. Smooth Frank.
Mikey cleared his throat, "And um, would you mind telling us..why?"

"Streets, they're.....crawling with them... it's just....really fucking bad." The man's voice was hushed and firm, but frantic and shaky at the same time.
"With what?" I asked.
"Zombies....fucking living dead."

We all burst into a fit of laughter, Lilana giggling uncontrolibly and me having to hold my sides from the huge amount of laughter building up in my stomach.
The man looked at us with a glare in his eyes and scowled, "Why the fuck are you laughing??"

Gerard wiped a tear fro his eye, "Sorry dude, but we have to go." He leaned in for the door, but the man shoved him back, and blocked our access to the door. "Please, believe me! You don't want to go out there!"
"Ok, look, what's your name?" Lilana asked.
"Johnathon."
"Ok Johnathon, where are these....zombies?"

We couldn't believe she was actually giving him a chance to explain this nonsense, when all the rest of us were ready to throw him out onto the pavement.

"About a mile and half away from here, but not for long."
I cleared my throat and put on a convincing smile, "Ok, how about we drive around there and see?"

A look of terror, mildy convincing might I add, filled the Johnathon's eyes, but then turned to a: 'fine, I'll prove it to you ' look.
"Fine, but let's just hope this thing has alot of horse power." He said, crawling towards the front seat, whispering what sounded like directions to our driver.
Brian shook his head disaprovingly as the van started moving, but too pissed off at our decision to humor this man to even say anything. Why we were humoring him, I have no idea, maybe we all were subconsciously dreading the show that night and were absolutely desperate to have an excuse to cancel it.

The van moved along slowly and awkward silence filled the cramped spaces between our bodies.
Johnathon nervously bit his nails and hunched over in his seat, his eyes rolling back and forth across our faces, scanning us, up and down. I was confused by his actions and intimidated by his appearence.
I was guessing, that underneath the 10 'o clock shadow, bloodshot eyes, dirt streaked cheeks, and what seemed to be bloody earlobes, he was an attractive man. His clothes were obviously well worn, traces of blood and lots of dirt soiled every inch of thread.
In the back of my head, I kept wanting to believe him; but my question was, why hadn't any "zombie" activity happend at the hotel yet? Had we really iscolated ourselves that much?
My mind was whirling, and then I realized I was actually starting to believe in the possibilty that there actually were zombies running the streets of London.

Maybe it wasn't just something Gerard wrote about and people made movies, maybe it was real. What? No! Frank, get real man, Zombies????
I looked over at Gerard, who's eyes were as big as dinnder plates. I then proceeded to scan my eyes around the van, noticing similar expressions on everyone's faces. Their lips were moving, but no sound was coming out. I began to feel sick to my stomach and my head heavy: that's it, I was having a nervous breakdown.

Lilana's mouth opened in what I was supposing was a scream. She looked at me and pointed out the window. My eyes followed her shaking finger towards the blood stained windows. Hundreds of bodies slammed against the sides of the van and the windows, hands and fingers groping, blood, so much blood.
The streets where covered in newspapers, clothing and God knows what else; and people. People? That's being nice, I suppose they were once people, but their blood covered bodies, corroted faces and blank, milky eyes gave away any hope of them having even a little bit of human left in them.

I pressed my face against the glass, and felt the van excelorate, the faces of the living dead became farther and farther away as we sped down the chaotic streets of London.
I still couldn't understand why in the world I was so calm about this whole thing. Perhaps, it was the fact that I had,for some reason, become deaf ever since we entered the "Land of the Living Dead".

I stared out the window, gazing at the chaos we had all been so oblivious to for God knows how long.
THe next thing I know, Gerard's mouth is yelling something at me and I am viciously being pulled out of the van by Ray, with Johnathon running ahead, shooting randomn shots from his gun. Everything was going in slow motion, and I found it all rather comical.

I was pulled into the hotel and slammed down onto the floor, with great force might I add. I watched as Gerard and Mikey Barred the front door with anything they could find, while staring at the limp characters making their way towards the hotel building.

My lip snarled, Gerard's sweat poured down, and my body, collapsed, even in it's state of rest on the cold, hard floor beneath me.


Heh......Ok, so basically, my story is yet again, taking a new turn. But, I needed something for it, and this idea hit me while I was at work the other day. Believe it or not, most of my ideas in life come to me while I'm at work..or when I'm using the bathroom, but that's a whooollee 'nother story. So, I hope you guys stick with me, I know this seems a bit odd, but just TRUST ME!!!!!!!! OK? Rate and review.
Oh and is it really sick that I was writing this while listening to really happy classical music? hmmm.