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Sand,

  Sea,

  Zombies

  Sand, Sea, Zombies

  by Blackpool & Fylde Wrimos,

  &

  Lancashire & Cumbria Wrimos

  2016

  ISBN: 9781370751815

  Copyright © Jacquera Black, Rowanne Carberry, A Isaac, Deb Jacobs, Leigh Keating, Mark Keating, Bec Pearce, Richard Southworth, Glenis Stott, Angel Wedge (Blackpool and Fylde Wrimos, Lancashire and Cumbria Wrimos)

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, made sentient, duplicated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means except by the permission on the author.

  All characters in this book are entirely fictitious and any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover designed by The Dog Ate My Bookshop (https://www.thedogatemybookshop.com/). Original images have been modified and adjusted. Some artwork is based on the images:

  https://morguefile.com/search/morguefile/1/blackpool/pop

  &

  https://www.flickr.com/photos/stinkiepinkie_infinity/10159454363.

  The copyright holders, photographers and site owners do not approve, condone or otherwise endorse any changes or usage of these pictures for this cover or any other associated reproduction in any form.

  Please see licences:

  https://morguefile.com/terms#license

  &

  https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/.

  All rights reserved.

  Introduction

  Can a writer steal another writer's idea? If the first writer shares an idea for a story, an idea the second writer decides to run with, will they write identical stories? That was the thought behind writing our zombie stories, if we all started with the same, would we end up with the same? So we all decided to see if that would happen, we'd start at the same place, with the same information, a male character named Ed, a female character named Lily, set in Blackpool, on a rainy afternoon, and the story would be about a zombie attack. The stories in this book are the result of that experiment, all very different, and pointing to the fact that ideas cannot be plagiarized as each writer will write with a different slant.

  Jacquera Black

  Contents

  Introduction – Jacquera Black

  Towered – Jacquera Black

  Not Another Zombie Story – Rowanne Carberry

  The Black Poole – A Isaac

  Zombietown – Deb Jacobs

  #Zombies – Leigh Keating

  the violence calls up silence – Mark Keating

  The Pier – Bec Pearce

  Day One – Richard Southworth

  Deliteful Donuts – Glenis Stott

  Remains – Angel Wedge

  Towered

  by Jacquera Black

  There was a time when Blackpool Tower was packed every day, filled with people having a good time. Television shows were filmed here, right in the ballroom where people danced, and clapped and laughed. But I am the only one here now. I'm the only one who gets to see the golden sculptures in the ceiling or the paintings of dancing men and women just below.

  I walk over to the pipe organ set on the stage, press one of the keys and listen to the hum of music as it reverberates through the room and vibrates through my feet.

  When I was little, I used to sit here as Mother played the organ. She’d sing nursery rhymes, and pop songs, and tell me about what life used to be like. And warn me that the world was a dangerous place.

  That I should never, no matter what, leave the Tower.

  She leaves though. Every few months, she goes to get supplies, and I am left all alone. But this time she’s been gone far too long. I haven't seen her for weeks and I’m starting to get worried.

  My stomach rumbles so I head out of the ballroom to the kitchen, walking past the door which leads to outside. The door which is always locked, has furniture piled up in front of it, and is rattling as someone tries to open it.

  ‘Mother.’

  I hurry forward and start pulling the furniture to one side. ‘I am so glad you are back. I’ve been so lonely without you. I was starting to think something had happened to you.’ Moving a chair from underneath the handle, I turn the key in the lock and start pulling back the bolts. ‘The food has nearly all gone, Mother. I know you've always said I shouldn’t leave the Tower but I was thinking I’d have to.’ I yank the last bolt out of its slot and fling open the door.

  A boy with a head of knotted curls and a bruised face pushes past me.

  ‘Who are you?’ I put my hands on my hips as I stare at him.

  ‘Shut the door.’

  I ignore him and lean out of the doorway, rain coming through a broken window soaking my long hair.

  ‘I said shut the door.’

  I look back at him. ‘Where’s my mother?’

  ‘I don’t know but you need to shut the door.’ He steps toward me and tries to push me to one side.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I shout, trying to keep the door open. ‘We have to wait for Mother.’

  ‘Then sit right down where you are and wait but this door needs to be closed and locked.’

  ‘No, it needs to stay open. You don’t get to decide what happens. This isn’t your home.’

  ‘I don’t care whether it is or not.’ He slams the door shut.

  ‘Hey.’ I pull at his arm. ‘You can’t come in here and…’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry but your mother isn’t coming. She’s probably not even still alive.’

  ‘Of course she’s alive.’ I try to yank open the door before he can bolt it. ‘And she’ll be here any time.’ I glance at him. ‘Why would you say that she’s not alive?’

  ‘Because.’ He waves his arm toward the door.

  ‘Because what?’

  He tilts his head to one side. ‘Are you winding me up? Surely you know… you’ve got to know… how could you not?’ A frown twists on his face. ‘But you don’t know do you? You don’t know about…’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘How dangerous it is outside.’

  I snort. ‘Oh that. Yes, I know how dangerous it is outside. Mother’s told me enough times. But you’ve been out there and are all right. And she’s been out there loads of times and has always come back.’

  ‘Until now.’

  ‘She’ll be back and then she’ll kick you…’ I sigh. ‘You know; I don’t believe any of it is true. You’re only saying it is dangerous because I’m a girl. Well I might be a girl but I can look after myself.’

  ‘I’m sure you can.’ He rubs his stomach. ‘Look as much as I am enjoying talking to you, I’ve not eaten since yesterday. I heard you mention food.’

  'And?'

  ‘I wondered if I could have some. To be quite honest, I'm so hungry that I would eat the wasted food from your bin if there wasn't anything else.'

  ‘There’s…’ I stop speaking as I stare at the boy. A stranger to me. I’ve never met him before, do I really want to let him have any of the food? There’s not much left. Mother wouldn’t have had to go looking for supplies if there had been. I open my mouth, about to say that it is all gone and then shut it again.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘There’s some food, not much, in the kitchen. You could have some of that.’

  He smiles. ‘Thank you. Not many people nowadays would share their food with a stranger, especially when they don’t have much.’

  I shrug my shoulders.

  ‘I’m Ed by the way. What’s your name?’

  ‘Lily.’ I point at the door which leads to the kitchen. ‘You’ll find the food in there. I’ll let you get it yourself. I have something to do.’

  ‘Fine with me. Do you want any?’

  ‘I’ll eat later.’
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  He nods his head and heads toward the kitchen.

  I wait for him to go in, before quietly opening the outside door and walking out to the top of the stairs.

  I am going to prove that just because I’m a girl, that doesn’t mean that I can’t cope with the outside world, even if it is dangerous. And not only that, I’m going to find Mother. And I'm going to rescue her from whatever is keeping her from me. I’ll be a hero and then maybe Mother will stop treating me like I’m a little girl.

  I grab hold of the rail and try to not slip on the green mouldy stairs as I make my way down.

  I don’t really remember outside too well. I was so small when Mother brought me to the Tower that my memory is blurred. But it didn’t look anything like the scene I see now. It's still raining. Thick droplets of almost grey water are cascading from the sky and splashing onto the broken up pavement, weeds growing in the cracks. The shop windows are boarded up in places, in others jagged panes of glass are strewn with bits of coloured material and rubbish.

  ‘You don’t want to be out here,’ a voice says.

  I turn around to see Ed behind me.

  ‘Yes I do,’ I mutter. ‘And it isn’t just that I want to be out here, I need to be. I need to breathe the air, I need to feel the wind blowing through my hair, and the rain on my skin. I need to see somewhere different and I need to find Mother.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous. Please, Lily, come back into the Tower. We’re not safe out here.’

  ‘If you’re so scared, you should go back in.’ I bite my lip to stop myself grinning. ‘Go on.’

  ‘No, I can’t. I can’t leave you out here. And yes, I am scared. I know what is out here. You’d be frightened if you knew.’

  ‘Well let me find out then. Let me decide for myself that the outside world is dangerous. Unless I