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

never enough… we wanted more and more. Did you really need all that stuff? No one needed all that stuff, we just wanted the stuff.
    ‘Since the outbreak, we’ve learned to get by on what we need. We need really very little and the little we have – food, water, company – we appreciate it. We appreciate just getting to the end of the day. We appreciate life. We have learned the value of it. I grew veg on the roof of this place last summer. It was great. I worked hard planting and weeding and watering. It was work but it was satisfying work, honest work, meaningful work. It was work that resulted in me getting fed, not to serve some boss who treats me like shit while getting rich off my efforts.’ Mal let out a sigh. ‘But I guess most of you are too young to fully understand…’ He let that hang in the air a moment before continuing.
    ‘How much do you lot rely on each other?’ None us of answered, I guess we all realised it was a rhetorical question. ‘A lot, I’m guessing,’ Mal continued. ‘You probably all met since the outbreak, am I right?’ I nodded, certain that he didn’t want me to spoil his lecture with words of my own; he looked like he’d been waiting a while for a captive audience. ‘But I bet you appreciate each other more than your pre-zombie families, and no doubt you have stronger bonds than friends you grew up with. You are family.
    ‘If you want to know what the bright side of the zombie apocalypse is, it’s that it has made us wake up. It’s allowed us to reclaim our lives. It has made us live instead of allowing our lives to wash over us. It has set us free.’
    Mal looked at each of us in turn as we sat and gazed at him through wide unblinking eyes. I had never heard anyone put a positive spin on the zombie apocalypse before. And I had to admit, having digested his words, it was rather convincing. In fact, now that I thought about it, I did recall, pre-apocalypse, more than one Facebook friend posting, ‘Bring on the zombie apocalypse’ statuses on a Monday morning.
    But none of them really meant it. No one really wanted everyone to die.
    ‘You’re wrong,’ I said as I stood up and looked down at Mal. ‘It’s ridiculous to think so many people have died – our loved ones have died – just so the remaining few can be set free. I’ve been cheated out of my future. I was a student, just starting out in life. I could have been anything, and I’ll never know now. Maybe society sucked before, maybe people were stuck in jobs or relationships they hated. But all they had to do was quit and move on, to not fear change. If you think being terrified for your life, not knowing what happened to your family, watching your friends die one by one, never being able to settle anywhere for long before your small bit of peace is shattered and everything you worked hard to build is torn down by dead hands – if you think being tortured by insane humans that are no longer kept in check by a legal system is being set free, then you really are living in a fucking dreamland!’
    I stormed out of the staff room and through to the salon. My anger acted as a jet pack, propelling me across the room until the window we entered through halted me. I looked outside, at the zombies staggering below.
    After a while an arm wrapped around my waist from behind. I turned to see Misfit sidle up next to me. ‘Is he OK?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t mean to get so cross at him. It’s fair play if he wants to be happy in all this madness. I shouldn’t have…’
    ‘He’s OK.’
    ‘Looks like we’re stuck here for now.’ I nodded down towards the zombies. ‘Maybe some of his positivity will rub off on us.’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Do you think he’ll let us crash here – after my outburst.’
    ‘I’m sure he will.’
    I nestled into Misfit’s side and he tightened his grip around my body, resting his cheek against the side of my head. ‘You know,’ he began in not much more than a whisper. ‘I sorta