I was not a gamer and only got involved in all of this because of a girl.
I was a retro nerd. I loved books and libraries. I had cut holes in the elbows of a tweed jacket I’d bought from a charity shop and sewed patches on them – badly. I wore glasses and would never ever get contact lenses.
I didn’t really have friends but someone I knew once told me my bedroom was not a like a teenager’s should be. It was apparently more like somewhere a middle-aged person would live.
My room was tidy, with calming colours, two watercolours of ocean scenes, and all my books on the shelves were filed by author and had dust jackets, and I saw nothing wrong with any of that.
I had a laptop of course but only used it for schoolwork and to read about my favourite authors. There was nothing personal on there, no dodgy internet searches. I didn’t even have a password. The only thing a hacker would get from my laptop was boredom.
I planned on going to university to study English Literature and was then going to take out a bank loan and open a second-hand bookshop, where I would sit behind a counter and work on my novel in between serving customers.
That was my world, and my future, and it was all going along in a pedestrian way until Jane walked into my life.
Actually, replace walk, with: bulldoze, disrupt big style, totally smash to smithereens my happily dull routines.
She crossed my path, literally, as I was leaving the public library one afternoon.
Her blond hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing a loose fitting dress that was a pastel colour I did not know the name of. She was engrossed in something on the screen of her mobile phone.
And then she was gone.
Leaving behind the faintest trace of a scent.
I stood there tingling all over.
Wow. She was so beautiful. She was perfect.
I don’t remember walking home but I do remember how I could not get past the first page of the book I had checked out of the library.
My thoughts kept drifting back to her.
I did not know her name then. I did not know anything about her other than that my life now felt empty and pointless.
I had a bad case of being in love.
This was a first for me and I had no idea what to do – apart from maybe hang around outside the library in the hope that I might see her again, and then…
What?
Impress her with my knowledge of classic science fiction books. Dazzle her with grammatical skills.
It was hopeless.
But I did it anyway.
I stood there for hours. I walked up and down. I sat on a wall and stared into space.
I was so worried I might miss her that I did not even read the book I had with me.
It was early evening and the library was closing when she finally appeared.
She was wearing a different dress and her hair hung loose over her shoulders, but she was still staring at her phone.
My heart started to beat way too fast and I could feel sweat trickling down my neck.
She had not noticed me and in a second would be past me. I would have missed my chance.
“Hey,” I said.
She looked up. She seemed a bit startled, and suspicious of me.
I needed to say something amazing.
I went with, “Hey.” Again.
No, that was useless.
So, I said, “Sorry, I thought we were about to collide then.”
Which wasn’t true and I was starting to wish the ground would open up and swallow me.
Then she laughed and said, “I’m so sorry. I did actually walk into a mannequin in a store the other day because I wasn’t watching where I was going because of the game.”
“What game?” I managed to ask.
She tilted the screen of her phone so I could see it. A gruesome looking thing was kneeling over a body and appeared to be eating the contents of its broken open skull.
It was gross.
Dayglo green letters over the top of this scene said: Game Over.
She was looking at her screen as well and scrunched up her nose. “They got me” she said, then smiled at me.
Trying not to faint from the rush of feelings this caused, I asked, “Who got you?”
“The zombies. They roam the city driven by their insane need to eat human brains. You have to zap them to survive and build up your score. It’s low tech and cheesy and it’s my favourite thing in the whole world. Have you ever played it?”
I had as much experience with gaming as I did with girls.
“No,” I replied, desperately hoping that was not the end of this conversation.
She beamed at me and said, “You should. What’s your email? I’ll send you the link.”
For long seconds I tried to remember what my email was. It had my name in it. But I could not even remember my own name. Then it came back to me.
I told her and she tapped her screen. “Ok, that should be with you now. Nice to meet you. Bye.”
I raised my hand in a goodbye wave and was still standing there with my hand in the air after she was out of sight.
I was more in love with her than ever.
And now I knew her name.
Her email address started with Jane followed by some numbers.
“Jane,” I said to my phone. “That’s a beautiful name.”
The emails I usually received on it were about new books being published or junk but this one just had a link in it.
And under that a letter:
J.
And below that an x.
A kiss. She had sent me a kiss.
I floated home, floated through to my room.
I looked at the message again and again on my phone, then I opened up the email on my laptop so I could read it on a bigger screen.
Without really thinking about it, I clicked on the link.
A street appeared. A crude version of an inner city. There was a lot of graffiti, smashed and boarded up windows, trash drifting by, and from somewhere out of sight a pulsing beat.
A small box opened in the centre of the screen asking me to choose a character.
There was a gangster zapper, a streetwise slayer, and a pastor of pain. There were images above each character’s name. They all had scars and sneers and really needed to see a dentist.
I chose streetwise slayer and was asked if I wanted one player or group mode.
My life was set permanently in one player mode so I automatically went to that, then thought: What if Jane is playing in group mode?
I had to see.
I went for group mode and five icons appeared at the top of the screen. My streetwise slayer was one of them, and there were three other equally rough looking male characters and one female looking character, called, Fear She.
I was trying to think how to check if this was Jane when a zombie walked up to me and bit me in the face.
At least I think that was what happened.
The words Game Over appeared, confirming they had got me.
A big fat zero then flashed up.
My debut score.
It was so annoying, and so stupid, but I did not hesitate to click yes when I was invited to play again.
I got a bit further this time and spotted another non-zombie character zapping their way out of a shopping mall.
I was watching them and wondering if it was one of the other players when two zombies grabbed me by the arms and bit in unison.
I sighed and played again.
And again.
Before I knew it, it was dark outside. My score had crept up to four and I was now being shown the scores of the other players.
Fear She was in second place. Someone called Master of Monsters was way out in the lead.
I had no idea who they were but immediately I did not like them.
Sometime around midnight I fell asleep still sitting in front of my laptop.
Thankfully it was the weekend so I could sleep in. I almost went straight back to playing the game when I woke up but managed to drag myself away.
I felt in need of some fresh air and views of something other than a grimy, gory street.
The streets in my home city are tree-lined and kind of dull. My feet were aching after a while, so I sat down on a bench.
My phone pinged with the message of an incoming email.
My heart soared when I saw it was from Jane.
She said she was hanging out in the park, if I wanted to head along.
Being in love went in an instance from being the miserable pits to being the most shiny wonderful thing.
I just about managed not to run all the way to the park but I was still breathless with anticipation when I arrived.
I could see Jane standing near the fountain.
Somehow, she once again looked even more beautiful than last time.
And I started to feel sick – because she was resting her hand on the arm of another boy and laughing as he spoke.
I wanted to turn around and leave, but she had noticed me and waved.
I trudged over. I actually felt close to tears. Being in love was horrible. It was a kind of torture.
Jane smiled her perfect smile and said, “This is Danny. You know him better as Master of Monsters.”
He turned to me and said, “You must be streetwise slayer, hey.”
He was maybe a couple of years older than me, and Jane. He looked relaxed and cool.
And I hated him.
I burnt with anger.
And I put a smile on my face as Danny told a story about the possum in his neighbour’s garden that Jane thought was hilarious.
I kept glancing at her, wishing that she had been looking at me like she looked at Danny.
But I did not think she ever would.
I felt so low.
The sun was shining on everyone else but me.
I gritted my teeth into a smile for as long as I could, then muttered something about needing to head off.
Danny asked me where I lived then said he was heading the same way as me. “I can maybe give you a few tips about the game along the way, if you’d like?” he asked.
Through a grimace I said, “That would be great.”
Jane hugged him enthusiastically for what felt like a long time, then gave me a brief hug and set off in another direction. She was already staring at her phone, presumably playing the game.
I hated the game now as well. Stupid zombies.
Danny was telling me ways to win anyway, as he’d promised. How to stay alive and even get bonus points.
Every now and then I said listlessly, “Sounds amazing,” because I did not have the strength to tell him what I really felt.
Finally, we reached an intersection where we would go our separate ways.
“Been good getting to know you,” he said. “In the flesh. The juicy flesh that those pesky zombies just love to bite.”
Then he grinned.
In a mad way, I hated myself more than I hated him at that moment in time.
He actually seemed like a genuinely good guy.
But I was too messed up about Jane to do anything but shrug and say, “Whatever,” then walk away.
I wish I had said something thoughtful. Something nice, because that was the day Danny died.
As far as I could ever find out from a distance, the doctors were never fully certain about why he died. The closest they could get was a weakness in his heart. A condition that he must have been born with.
I did not go the funeral. I was not family, not close in any way, but I grieved for a long time.
Two weeks after Danny was buried in the cemetery of a nearby church, I emailed Jane.
I’m so sorry, I wrote. I can’t imagine how much you must be hurting, but I had an idea. Please feel free to tell me to get lost if you hate it, but maybe we could play one more game. You know, in memory of Danny. I wished I had got to know him better. He seemed like a really nice person.
I knew trying to get closer to her at such an awful time would be a very low thing to do.
I wasn’t.
I was simply writing from the heart.
Wishing that death did not mean game over in the real world.
Wishing there was a chance to make things better.
She did not reply.
I wasn’t surprised and guessed that was for the best.
My bedroom was feeling claustrophobic and far too hot even with the window open, so I decided to go for a long walk.
I lost track of time and didn’t care where I was going. It was dark by the time I turned and set off back home.
I was a couple of minutes away when an email pinged on my phone.
It was from Jane.
I took a deep breath, opened it.
Hey, it read, Thank you for your sweet message. I think you’re right. It would be good to play the game one more time. I see you’ve already started without me – and streetwise slayer you’re on fire!! Zapping zombies like there’s no tomorrow.
My head began to spin. She thought my message was sweet and liked my idea about giving the game a final whirl. Which was amazing.
But I did not understand the rest.
I had not gone online since emailing her. How could I be playing the game?
The house was in darkness as I let myself in. My dad was away on business and my mom sometimes doped up on sleeping tablets.
For once, I was fine about that.
The last thing I needed was a parental chat about how pale I was looking.
And though I hadn’t looked in any mirrors, I felt pale. I was sweating and felt unsteady on my feet.
My guts were telling me that something was wrong,
I opened the door to my bedroom and recoiled.
There was a nauseating smell. It smelt like something had gone off.
I turned on the light and almost screamed.
There was a figure sitting in front of my laptop. On the screen, zombies were being zapped into oblivion.
I could see the score for streetwise slayer spiralling.
Then the figure turned and grinned at me.
Danny’s lips were cracked. The skin around them was peeling away. Something was moving inside his mouth, wriggling.
I watched in horror as a maggot crawled out.
“Hey,” he said. His voice was hoarse. “I hope you don’t mind but I went online as you. Boy, I’ve missed this game.”
“But, you’re…” I began to say.
“Dead and buried, I know,” he replied. “But something happened. Everything was dark and silent and then suddenly I could think again and move. And it took an age, but I managed to push the coffin lid aside and get out of the ground. I was going to go and see Jane but I did not want to freak her out, so I thought I’d pay you a visit. You know, hang out.”
I stared at him. The suit he had been laid to rest in was torn in places. I could see deeper, darker cracks in his skin below. Through to muscle in one place and a hint of bone.
I swallowed, trying very hard not to hurl. There was a zombie in my room, playing a zombie game.
“Ok,” I said. I needed to keep it together just long enough to get help. “Be with you in a second,” I said and took out my phone.
I began to key in 911 praying the police could get here quickly.
Danny asked, “Are you getting pizza? Tell them to replace the anchovies with brains.”
His grin got wider.
I hesitated over the final 1. He looked grotesque but whatever had happened to him, this was Danny.
I owed him.
I put my phone away.
Danny’s attention had turned to his hands. He cursed and said, “Stupid rotting fingers. They’re just not working like they should.”
My voice caught in my throat as I said, “We can get you help. I’ll phone for an ambulance. They can take you to a hospital, the doctors will…”
Danny spoke over me: “Look at me. They’ll lock me up, do tests on me. I don’t want to be a freak show.”
He looked sadly at the screen where the image was frozen around the words Game Over and got slowly to his feet.
He staggered slightly. Shrugged, said, “My balance is going as well as the fleshy bits in my legs.”
Then he took a deep breath and said, “It’s no good. I need to do the right thing. I need to return to the grave.”
“You can’t,” I pleaded.
“It’s the only way,” he replied. “All of me is decaying. Including my brain. I can feel it. I keep forgetting things and sometimes I can’t think straight. And, sometimes, the things I think are really dark. I was only half-joking about the brain pizza.”
He kind of smiled when he said this, but this did nothing to hide the pain I could see he was in.
His body was breaking down and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.
He took another deep breath. “So, that’s how the cookie crumbles. Or…” another attempt at a smile passed over his face. “… that’s how the Danny crumbles, if we’re being brutally honest. And I can’t bear the idea of me hurting someone along the way, and that’s a very real possibility. Most likely, a slam dunk certainty. So, I have to return.”
He wiped away a tear and asked me if I would help him get back to his grave and, when he climbed back into his coffin, if I would secure the lid.
“You need to make sure there’s no way I can escape again,” he said.
I said yes. I did not feel there was anything else I could do.
I found a hammer and a box of nails in the garage so I could secure the coffin lid in place. I finally vomited. Then we made our way through the dark, deserted streets and climbed over the gates into the cemetery. I stood there sobbing while Danny scrambled back down into his coffin.
I did not think this could get any worse.
But it did.
As I started to move the coffin lid over him, Danny looked up at me with his decomposing eyes and said, “I’m scared.”
The portable game console is nothing fancy. There’s a couple of buttons on either side of a screen. The battery lasts an age and you don’t have to be online to use it.
There are no zombies in the game I am playing on it. This game is set on a road circuit. It’s basically a case of getting round as fast as you can without crashing. I have been playing it every day.
That was the promise I made.
After Danny had told me he was scared I had an idea. I asked him to give me a little time and ran to an all-night store. I bought two portable games consoles, pre-loaded with the same selection of games, then hurried back to the cemetery. I gave one to Danny and asked him to choose the game.
Our game.
He chose the car race game, and I told him I would play it always and think of him.
Then I did what he had asked me to. I made sure he would never be able to leave, by securing the coffin lid.
I staggered home afterwards and cried myself to sleep.
That was four weeks ago.
My lap-times are getting shorter and my score has been rising.
I hope Danny is still playing. I hope he is able to – though I know the changes to his body will eventually rob him of the ability to work the console.
I can only hope that when that happens, the decay will take his thoughts soon after and allow him a kind of peace.