fanTim of the Dead.
Chapter One : It lives!
Tim felt awful. He could hardly open his eyes, let alone move anything. What had he been drinking last night? What had he been smoking last night? Come to think about it, he could remember absolutely nothing about the previous night.
He groaned and rolled over, coming face to face with Colin. Colin lifted his head at Tim's movement, licked his nose, licked Tim's nose and then jumped out of bed and headed for the lounge.
Using every ounce of energy he could muster, Tim lifted his head, then slowly sat up. The room was spinning, but he eventually managed to stand, albeit with the help of both hands holding the bed to steady himself. He staggered over to the door of his small bedroom, standing on the small white figure of an Imperial Stormtrooper as he did, at which he let out a quiet curse.
As he opened the door he lifted a hand to his face to shield his eye from the bright sunshine flooding in through the kitchen window. He thanked himself for remembering to at least wear some boxer shorts in bed last night.
Daisy was sitting at the table, staring at her typewriter as usual while playing with a spoon in a cold cup of coffee. The small flat was as messy as it usually was, but the kitchen table was always tidy, as that was Daisy's 'work' area.
"Oh," she said, seeing Tim at the door. "It lives!"
"Wuhh?" mumbled Tim, rubbing his aching head.
He stumbled over to the table and sat down opposite his flatmate. The aroma of the cold coffee filled his nostrils and tried it's hardest to wake him up.
He became awake of a noise like banging, which he was sure wasn't in his head.
The door. There was someone at the door.
"Can you get that?" asked Daisy, "I'm working."
Even though the idea that Daisy was doing anything with the typewriter other than stare at it was hard to grasp, Tim slowly rose and headed for the door.
As he opened the door, he was met by Brian's agitated face.
"Tim!" He cried as soon as the door was open. "Have you seen the terrible, ungodly dead!"
"Wuhh?" said Tim again. "Oh. Hang on."
He walked slowly to a shelving unit near the TV, picked something off the shelf, then made his way in more or less a straight line back to the door.
"Here." He said, pushing a CD into Brian's hand. "By the way, it's not the 'ungodly dead', it's the Ungrateful Dead."
Brian's puzzled face stared blankly at him.
"And I want it back by Friday." said Tim, closing the door.
He sat back at the table and rested his head in his hands.
"I'm going to take Colin for a walk." Said Daisy, eager for a break from 'working'.
Tim was on his Playstation when Daisy got back, playing his favourite game, Resident Evil. He was feeling quite pleased with himself as he'd got a tiny bit further than he'd done the last time without losing a life. Daisy walked in just behind Colin, who trotted over to Tim's side where he sat on the floor.
Tim looked up, nodded a greeting to Colin, and turned back to his game. After a second or two, he stopped, then turned his head slowly back to look at Colin. He had a severed hand in his mouth, blood dripping from the wrist onto the carpet.
"Coffee?" asked Daisy.
Tim made no sound, just continued staring at Colin.
"Tim, would you like a coffee? I'm just putting the kettle on."
Again, Tim made no sound.
"Why aren't you talking to me?" Daisy asked. "Is this about the thing that happened last night?"
"What? What thing that happened last night?"
"Well," began Daisy "I don't thing I'll look the same way at salami again, but…"
Tim shook his head. "Never mind that now. How many fingers do you have?" he asked her.
Daisy looked down at her hands. "Ten. Well, eight and two thumbs, if you're asking one of those schoolboy joke questions…"
Daisy turned to look at Tim, and stopped dead.
"Then that's not one of your hands?" asked Tim.
They both stared at Colin, who sat up and looked back at them, tilting his head
to one side in puzzlement.
"Awww." Sighed Tim and Daisy at the same time.
Tim shook his head. No, this wasn't right.
"Where did he get it?" said Tim, poking the hand with a fork, which was now laid on the kitchen table.
Daisy shrugged. "No idea." She replied.
"You didn't see him bite it off anyone outside?" said Tim.
"No. He was just, you know, doing his business under a bush. I never saw him pick it up. What shall we do with it?"
"Well, I think we ought to call the police or something."
Daisy was about to answer when the door was flung open and Mike walked in, dumping a large rucksack on the floor. Tim quickly covered the severed hand with a dishcloth.
"Mike!" he said, smiling. "Good to see you!"
"Tim, I need a favour." Said Mike, handing him a set of keys. "I need you to look after my van for a while. Promise me you'll look after it while I'm gone."
"Yeah, sure mate, I'll take good care of it. Why aren't you taking it with you?
Where are you going?"
"Had a code red recall from the TA. They're sending a car over. Sargent's privileges." He smiled and tapped the stripes on his sleeve. "It can only mean one thing, Tim. I'm going into combat!"
"Combat? That's almost as good as being in the real army! It's all you've ever wanted! Where?"
"Sorry, can't tell you."
"Oh, right. Let me guess, you'd have to kill me if you told me?"
"No, I've really no idea where I'm being sent."
"Oh." Replied Tim.
"Only joking," said Mike, laughing. Then his face straightened. "Of course I'd have to kill you."
He walked over to the window and looked out at his van, wiping a tear from his eye.
"What's wrong Mike?" asked Daisy, putting an arm around his shoulders.
"I don't know, it just feels like I'll never see her again." He turned to Tim.
"You promise you'll look after her, right?"
Tim held up his hands. "She won't get a scratch."
"Not a scratch." Repeated Mike, meaning it as a demand.
"Will you get going?" Tim laughed, hugging his best mate.
Mike picked up his rucksack and headed for the doorway. "By the way, Tim, don't worry about what happened last night. I'm never going to be able to eat Cheddar cheese again, but it's not really a big deal."
"What?" said Tim.
"Sorry Tim. Got to go." Said Mike, shutting the door behind him.
"What was that all about?" asked Daisy.
"I don't know, but I think Mike's departure and this have something in common." He pulled the dishcloth off the table. The hand had gone.
"Colin!" Daisy screamed.
