The Undead Day Twenty Read Online Free PDF

strange,’ Howie says.
    ‘Not really,’ Paula says. ‘We all got the same amount three days ago…which was three…three days ago…’
    ‘HAIRBANDS…’
    ‘Heard you,’ Paula calls back.
    ‘WHERE’S MY COFFEE?’
    ‘YOU ASKING ME?’ Paula shouts.
    ‘NO. HOWIE. HE SAID HE WOULD BRING ME COFFEE.’
    ‘Okay,’ Paula says. ‘Shopping day then.’
    ‘Oh fuck,’ Howie says.
    ‘Bugger,’ Clarence says.
    ‘Arse,’ Roy mutters, rolling over.
    ‘YAY,’ Marcy shouts.
    ‘How the fuck?’ Howie asks, shaking his head in the direction of his room. ‘She’s got the hearing of a bat…’ he mutters under his breath.
    ‘BATWOMAN.’
    ‘Coffee,’ Howie says.
    ‘Coffee,’ Clarence says.
    ‘Okay,’ Paula says.
    ‘Arse,’ Roy mutters.
    ‘I’M A BATWOMAN…’
    The three fearless leaders traipse down the stairs as Batwoman groans in irritation at needing a wee. They stop at the door to the barracks, also known as the lounge, and stare in to see three young men and two young women sat on their arses in underwear, soaking wet and giggling with red cheeks.
    ‘Sir, morning Mr Howie, Sir. Miss Paula, Sir…and er…Clarence, Sir,’ Blinky blurts, launching to her feet to snap a salute.
    ‘Right,’ Howie says slowly, grinning at the sight.
    ‘Dave,’ Cookey starts to say then stops due to the giggles cutting him off. He composes himself, draws breath and tries again. ‘Dave saved me…’
    The three fearless leaders do an eyes right order to the front door and the small man outside staring in as devoid of expression as ever but with just the merest hint of reproach in his eyes, as if I would.
    ‘He did!’ Cookey exclaims.
    ‘Coffee, Mr Howie?’ Paula asks.
    ‘Aye, coffee, Miss Paula, Sir,’ Howie says, adding an as you were nod at the barracks.
    The three launch the attack into the kitchen. Clarence goes for the big pan, pouring water ready for heating. Howie makes fire, manly and heroically striking the match that flames to ignite the gas pumped from the jets. Paula manhandles the mugs, forcing order from chaos.
    Water pouring. Fire igniting. Cups clattering. Feet thunder on the ceiling above their heads as Batwoman decides that having a wee and getting ready for the shopping day are actually far more enticing than being served coffee in bed. More floorboards creak. A door opens.
    ‘Fuck it,’ Nick’s voice floating down as he comes out of his room to spot Marcy securing the bathroom ahead of him. Feet on the stairs, thudding fast and fluid as Nick runs down to stop with a bemused look into the lounge.
    ‘Morning fucktards…what the…actually I need a piss,’ he runs off for the downstairs toilet.
    ‘How many of us?’ Paula asks, pausing to squint while sorting the mugs. Howie and Clarence exchange glances. Shaking heads and shrugging.
    ‘Twelve?’ Howie suggest.
    ‘Thirteen?’ Clarence offers.
    ‘Fourteen,’ Paula says, resuming the placing of the mugs. ‘Lilly is upstairs…she doesn’t have sugar does she?’
    ‘Er,’ Howie says.
    ‘Um,’ Clarence says.
    ‘We’ll just put a sugar pot out,’ Howie says.
    ‘No she doesn’t have sugar,’ Paula says, nodding to herself. The two men watch as she deftly adds spoonful’s of sugar to mugs, one in this one, two in this one, one in this one, miss one, one in this one.
    ‘Do you actually know who has what?’ Howie asks.
    ‘Yep,’ Paula says, hesitating with a glance back at the row of mugs then resuming confidently.
    ‘No way,’ Howie says, he steps over and points at a mug, ‘who’s that for?’
    ‘Nick, white, two sugars in the morning, one sugar the rest of the day but he will drink it black and without if need be.
    ‘Fuck,’ Howie says in genuine admiration. ‘What about this one?’
    ‘Marcy. No sugar, only a dash of milk or half a portion of those little pots…’
    ‘This one…’
    ‘Roy, no sugar, normal milk or one portion.’
    ‘She’s a witch,’ Howie whispers to Clarence. ‘We should burn