Saturday 25 June 2016

'Z' by Calum Kerr

It was on the news and tha, they told us no to come. Pish on tha, is my thought. They’re filmin my book.
               Well, it’s no my book. ah didnae write it and tha. But ah’ve read it, like, forty times and tha. ah pure love tha book. It’s ma book as much as anybody’s. And if they’re filmin it, ah’m gunnae be there.
               It’s all about zombies, and some people – my Ma especially – think tha’s for babbies. But it’s no. It’s pure dead brilliant. And if they’re filming it, and tha, no radge is gunnae keep me oot.
               Ah thought about going doon in the day, but every numptie and his wifie’ll be there. So ah’ve waited till dark. Till well after dark. It’s close to three in the morning now. Tha should do.
               So, what ah do is, ah sneak doon to the edge of the square where the big fences are, and tha. There dinnae seem to be none o’ them security radges around so then ah hoik myself o’er it. They’re got, like, plastic and tha on the fences, so you cannae see in, so ah dinnae ken wha ah’m drappin’ intae.
               It’s just like you imagine, though, ken? It’s aw trucks and tha, and lights and gennies and tha. It’s pure brilliant.
               Ah cannae see anyone around, which is gud, but ah cannae see any o’ the filmin’ either. Only one hing to dae, ah start to sneak ma way further in.
               Ah can hear noises and screamin and tha as ah get closer. It sounds pure movie magic, ya ken?
               Finally, ah gets right to the edge o’ the square. There’s all these folks runnin aboot and  screamin and tha it looks pure mental.
Brilliant!
Then ah hear this noise behind me. Ah turn around and there’s this zombie with blood running doon his mooth and onto his t-shirt. His eyes are aw blood and tha and he looks pure dead brilliant.
               Ah forget tha ah’m no even meant to be there.
               “Hoi, pal. You look fuckin marvellous!” ah tells him. That’s when ah see one o’ they security guards at his feet, with his throat all torn oot.
               Ah’m just wonderin wha to make of this, when some guy runs past with headphones on and tha.
               “Run!” he shouts. “For fuck’s sake run!”
               But it’s too late. Thon zombie – and ah now realise it is a zombie, no an actor – leaps and ah can feel his cold fingers on my face as he pushes it over to get to ma neck. And tha’s goodnight Vienna.



               Pure dead brilliant!

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