32 Days Later
Dreaming
Ivy couldn’t be more than 20, but the tiredness in her eyes made her older in many ways. David hadn’t looked at himself in a mirror for weeks, but he guessed his state was somewhat similar to hers.
It was such a relief not to be alone anymore. David couldn’t find words for how much Ivy came to mean to him during the next few days – just having someone there to keep yourself from going completely crazy was worth everything. Ivy was a sweet girl who made his day just by smiling now and then. What before had been a black hole in his heart that swallowed everything else, there now was a clean wound that Ivy had started to mend. Not that he was on the rebound, but without Ivy he was almost certain that he would have killed himself sooner or later.
-
“What was her name? Your wife?”
She had found him sitting on his bed holding the photograph of the red-haired woman and her two children he always carried with him. She had seen him looking at it before, but not like this. Not right after they had seen the decaying corpse of a young, red-haired woman that was not Abby but still looked so much like her.
“Abby. Abigail, but she hated when I called her that.”
He hated the way his voice failed at the end of her name, but he loved Ivy for placing her small hand on his arm as he cried.
-
They spent the days walking around, lounging in the bed shop with books and sweets, looking at the birds in the parks, and talking. David hadn’t realised that he missed the simple act of talking nonsense that much – but with Ivy, it was a natural thing. Goofing around with her was as simple as breathing once you got to know her. Strolling in Hyde Park and singing S Club 7 songs at the top of their lungs, laughing in a playground while quoting Little Britain – it all seemed so easy when Ivy was around.
They both knew that it more often than not was a way to keep the despair at bay, but it worked.
Ivy told him that she had tried to contact others by radio and phone without success. (She wasn’t very keen to talk about it in the first place, and David guessed that it had something to do with the fact that she had been forced to use the radio in a wrecked military vehicle, that still had had the deceased driver in the front seat.) Put together with David’s attempts to contact the outside world, they came to the conclusion that they may be the only ones left. Late nights were spent talking about whether or not they should leave London and search for others outside of the city, but they never came to a decision.
“What if there are zombies?” Ivy asked once, and David could tell that she was joking by the tone of her voice.
-
It was always the same dream. The sound of a gun going off inside of the apartment.
He couldn’t have done it. Not like this, not without her.
She was running up the stairs again, but never fast enough, never being able to tell him that they might get through this. The smell of blood and the stains on the wall…
… and the scent of David as he lay down next to her, put his arms around her, talked to her and stroke her hair as she woke up, sweating and crying.
-
There were no zombies. No infected, like in the film with that scene where London was a ghost town. There was nothing but animals and David and Ivy, and they reasoned that they were safe enough in the city. At least they had each other now.
-
October had always been Ivy’s favourite month, and even without people, London was beautiful in autumn. All the leaves were about to fall, and even though that was a very poetic approach to describe that something was dying, Ivy felt alive with David at her side. David was beautiful too, in his own way. He had a picture of his family stuffed in his pocket, and black Converse sneakers with holes in various places.
“David?”
They were lying on a blanket in Hyde Park one night, dressed in warm clothes as the temperature had dropped significantly since September. At six pm, it was already dark outside and the stars were twinkling in the clear night sky. David took a mouthful of the chocolate candy they had brought, and his reply became a rather muffled:
“Yeah?”
“Do you believe in heaven?”
The question had just popped into her mind, and David seemed a bit surprised. Ivy turned her head to look at his expression, and his solemn eyes met hers.
“I dunno,” he said at last, looking up at the stars again. Their breathing created white clouds of steam in the cold night. “I find it hard to believe in anything after all this.”
“But what do you think it would be like?” she asked, still looking at him. She used to have her childhood faith to rely on, but she found it extremely hard to find any meaning in it now. David apparently shared her view.
“Beautiful, probably,” David said, and after a few seconds: “Pretty crowded, too.”
“Yeah, I never liked crowds,” Ivy said. They lay in silence for a while before Ivy let out a small laugh.
“What?” David said, turning to look at her.
“We’re pretty sick, making jokes about something like this.”
David grinned and Ivy felt her insides warm up a little. He had that kind of a smile.
“Never said I wasn’t.”
There was another silent moment, in which David took a hold of her hand.
“I’m glad I found you, you know,” he said, suddenly unsmiling. Ivy entwined their cold fingers.
“Likewise.”
Some time later they started to make their way back to the shop, still hand in hand.
‘Just like the Doctor and Rose,’ David used to say, ‘but without the aliens and the time traveling.’
It was such a relief not to be alone anymore. David couldn’t find words for how much Ivy came to mean to him during the next few days – just having someone there to keep yourself from going completely crazy was worth everything. Ivy was a sweet girl who made his day just by smiling now and then. What before had been a black hole in his heart that swallowed everything else, there now was a clean wound that Ivy had started to mend. Not that he was on the rebound, but without Ivy he was almost certain that he would have killed himself sooner or later.
-
“What was her name? Your wife?”
She had found him sitting on his bed holding the photograph of the red-haired woman and her two children he always carried with him. She had seen him looking at it before, but not like this. Not right after they had seen the decaying corpse of a young, red-haired woman that was not Abby but still looked so much like her.
“Abby. Abigail, but she hated when I called her that.”
He hated the way his voice failed at the end of her name, but he loved Ivy for placing her small hand on his arm as he cried.
-
They spent the days walking around, lounging in the bed shop with books and sweets, looking at the birds in the parks, and talking. David hadn’t realised that he missed the simple act of talking nonsense that much – but with Ivy, it was a natural thing. Goofing around with her was as simple as breathing once you got to know her. Strolling in Hyde Park and singing S Club 7 songs at the top of their lungs, laughing in a playground while quoting Little Britain – it all seemed so easy when Ivy was around.
They both knew that it more often than not was a way to keep the despair at bay, but it worked.
Ivy told him that she had tried to contact others by radio and phone without success. (She wasn’t very keen to talk about it in the first place, and David guessed that it had something to do with the fact that she had been forced to use the radio in a wrecked military vehicle, that still had had the deceased driver in the front seat.) Put together with David’s attempts to contact the outside world, they came to the conclusion that they may be the only ones left. Late nights were spent talking about whether or not they should leave London and search for others outside of the city, but they never came to a decision.
“What if there are zombies?” Ivy asked once, and David could tell that she was joking by the tone of her voice.
-
It was always the same dream. The sound of a gun going off inside of the apartment.
He couldn’t have done it. Not like this, not without her.
She was running up the stairs again, but never fast enough, never being able to tell him that they might get through this. The smell of blood and the stains on the wall…
… and the scent of David as he lay down next to her, put his arms around her, talked to her and stroke her hair as she woke up, sweating and crying.
-
There were no zombies. No infected, like in the film with that scene where London was a ghost town. There was nothing but animals and David and Ivy, and they reasoned that they were safe enough in the city. At least they had each other now.
-
October had always been Ivy’s favourite month, and even without people, London was beautiful in autumn. All the leaves were about to fall, and even though that was a very poetic approach to describe that something was dying, Ivy felt alive with David at her side. David was beautiful too, in his own way. He had a picture of his family stuffed in his pocket, and black Converse sneakers with holes in various places.
“David?”
They were lying on a blanket in Hyde Park one night, dressed in warm clothes as the temperature had dropped significantly since September. At six pm, it was already dark outside and the stars were twinkling in the clear night sky. David took a mouthful of the chocolate candy they had brought, and his reply became a rather muffled:
“Yeah?”
“Do you believe in heaven?”
The question had just popped into her mind, and David seemed a bit surprised. Ivy turned her head to look at his expression, and his solemn eyes met hers.
“I dunno,” he said at last, looking up at the stars again. Their breathing created white clouds of steam in the cold night. “I find it hard to believe in anything after all this.”
“But what do you think it would be like?” she asked, still looking at him. She used to have her childhood faith to rely on, but she found it extremely hard to find any meaning in it now. David apparently shared her view.
“Beautiful, probably,” David said, and after a few seconds: “Pretty crowded, too.”
“Yeah, I never liked crowds,” Ivy said. They lay in silence for a while before Ivy let out a small laugh.
“What?” David said, turning to look at her.
“We’re pretty sick, making jokes about something like this.”
David grinned and Ivy felt her insides warm up a little. He had that kind of a smile.
“Never said I wasn’t.”
There was another silent moment, in which David took a hold of her hand.
“I’m glad I found you, you know,” he said, suddenly unsmiling. Ivy entwined their cold fingers.
“Likewise.”
Some time later they started to make their way back to the shop, still hand in hand.
‘Just like the Doctor and Rose,’ David used to say, ‘but without the aliens and the time traveling.’