This fic details how Noel was bitten and turned. Simon Pegg has stated that due to losing his phone, Noel was unable to contact anyone and was therefore, not informed in time about the events of 'Z' Day. This is my take on it.
THE DEATH OF NOEL KAYE
Noel Kaye patted his pockets, releasing a rapid stream of swear words when he could not trace his mobile phone. Evidently, he had left it at work. Heaving his bulk onto the seat at the bus stop, Noel scuffed the ground with his shoe, the tongue of it slicked with dried up vomit.
He had been out last night, gotten 'munted', and had ended up vomiting into bushes, with some of the sick splattering onto his shoes. Noel had not had any time to clean them before work today, but luckily Shaun hadn't noticed, having been too pre-occupied with his 'Step' Dad to observe or even care.
As the bus drew up, Noel climbed to his feet, barging past a young boy and onto the bus. He made his way to the back, slumping down in the centre of the back row. The bus lurched forwards and Noel reminded himself to scour work on Monday morning in order to locate his most cherished possession.
Twenty minutes later, Noel got off of the bus, trudging home. He sneered at anyone who dared to glance at him, which was a small number. Due to his size and menacing figure, everyone scuttled out of the way, receiving a snarky smile in response.
Once in his flat, Noel flopped onto the sofa, stabbing the television remote with a finger. His temporary accommodations, lived in since the massive row with his parents, was an absolute pig-sty. And there was no way that Noel was cleaning it up. As he had explained to his mates:
"I ain't a fucking maid, am I?"
With one GCSE under his belt, Noel knew that his choices when it came to jobs were very limited. And his parents reminded him every time they communicated with him.
Noel growled when the television didn't come on, flinging the remote at the wall when the TV let out a loud bang, smoke erupting from it.
"Oh, shit!"
He opened a window, allowing the smoke to escape. Glaring at his broken television, he grumbled:
"Can my life get any worse?!"
"Oi, I need some weed."
"Ain't gone none, Noodle. In't this weird?"
"What?... Ed! Oi, Ed!"
Noel took the phone away from his ear and slammed it back onto the receiver. "Prick… Hanging up on me like that."
Noel sighed and shrugged his way out of the payphone box. It was now Sunday and Noel was craving weed. He had been unable to contact anyone as his landline had also decided to die on him, mere moments after the explosion of the TV.
He rummaged around in his jean pockets, shouting: "FUCK!" He had no change left either.
Noel halted in the middle of the street as he heard moaning sounds. In the distance, a woman was staggering towards him. Peering at her, Noel scoffed. Drunk, most likely.
Starting towards her, he grunted: "Oi, don't suppose you have any weed, do ya?"
Another moan, hands outstretched now.
"Any fags then?"
The woman lurched towards him, closing in. Noel narrowed his eyes, spitting:
"Oi, bitch! Can you hear me?"
Seconds later… "AH SHIT!"
He howled in agony as she sunk her teeth into his neck. Blood spurted free, soaking the both of them. Through the excruciating pain, Noel wrenched the zombie off of him and delivered a solid punch to her face.
The woman toppled onto the ground and Noel stamped on her head, smirking at the mess that resulted. He winced, clutching at his neck with both of his hands. More moans started up and Noel's eyes bugged out as he spotted a horde heading towards him.
Staggering backwards, he gasped: "Ah hell no…"
Whirling round, Noel sprinted back the way he had come. Three hours later, he succumbed to his wounds.
