Blog of the Dead (Book 3): Lost by Lisa Richardson Page A

wrenching until they saw my friend’s dad’s car pull up outside to drop me off at the end of the night. Safe and sound.
    Exchange ‘bad men’ for ‘zombies’ and ‘drugged, abducted and raped by’ to ‘eaten by’ and you have a good picture of how I was feeling as I waited for Misfit to return.
    My concern was interrupted by the sound of a noisy diesel engine approaching. I stood and thrust my head through the open window, aware of the others crowding behind me. A large van, painted deep purple, pulled up below but not before it had flattened all the zombies in its path. A moment later, and with the engine still running, the side door slid open and I saw Misfit standing there, gazing up at me, a half smile and a wink.
    ‘Time to go, people,’ I said, noticing that every zombie in the vicinity was staggering in the direction of the van.
    While Charlotte climbed through the window, I turned to Mal. ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘We owe you our lives.’
    ‘No worries. Glad I could help,’ he said, a smile just too wide, too bright, too warm and genuine for the zombie apocalypse. It was a smile that hid a lot of hurt.
    Kay slipped out next, looking stronger than she had the previous day.
    ‘And thanks for thinking we were worth saving. You know, that we weren’t the “bad guys”.’
    ‘Sometimes you have to take the chance, or else you let the bad guys win.’
    ‘Whoever it was you lost, you lost them to the bad guys, didn’t you?’ I said.
    ‘Yep.’
    I hesitated at the window.
    ‘Come with us,’ I spoke fast, knowing that I was holding everyone up.
    ‘Thanks,’ said Mal. ‘But no thanks. It’s not for me. I just want to sit up here in my castle and watch the dead world go by.’
    ‘You don’t need to be alone.’
    ‘Sophie,’ Clay nodded his head to the window as he spoke, urging me on.
    ‘I’m never alone. I look down there and I see the ones that died because they didn’t fight hard enough for their freedom. I’m just happy letting it all roll by, no one to care about other than myself, no ties. Nowhere to be.’
    ‘No one to lose.’
    ‘Soph, come on,’ said Clay.
    I had one leg over the window sill. I swung the other over and balanced on the ledge.
    ‘Exactly.’
    ‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Enjoy the end of the world.’
    ‘I will,’ said Mal. ‘I have a front row seat.’
    I lowered my body down, losing sight of Mal and his undying joy, until my toes touched the narrow ledge. Gripping the wider ledge above with my fingertips, I let go and jumped to the ground. Why couldn’t Mal just accept the misery and the inevitable despair of loss like the rest of us?
    ‘Took your time,’ said Misfit, breaking my train of thought. He stood near the front of the van, his small knife jabbing into zombies’ heads, holding them back as he waited for me and Clay. Charlotte stood at the back, using her cleaver to keep the side door clear. Clay came tumbling down behind me and the four of us dived into the van.
    The tyres screeched as the van sped off. Misfit shoved me down onto a black sofa at the back and I could now see that the van was a converted campervan complete with a tiny kitchen area between where I sat and the front cab. I watched Clay kick a zombie that had managed to grip onto the doorframe. Charlotte swung the door shut and I heard it click into place. I looked out through a window in the side of the van as Kay drove us through the zombie infested streets of Ashford, looping around the other side of the hairdresser/jewellery store. I glanced up to see Mal waving to us, a smile on his face. A man who had learned the value of everything but who chose to have nothing.
    As I lost sight of Mal I turned my sights to look out through the windscreen. I thought we were on a collision course with a pub directly ahead, but Kay swung the tired sounding vehicle to the left, then to the right, back onto the high street. We carried on straight, the thud, thud of bodies against metal as we hit the