by Lee, Damien
“We know,” Amy replied.
“Alcohol is always good. Don’t forget that.”
“Okay.”
“And for god’s sake, don’t forget a tin opener. Not everything is a ring-pull!”
“Can we go?” Ben snapped.
“Fine.”
They took off once more, proceeding down the route that Glen suggested. Frank glanced over at Ben. He stared at the side mirror, watching the group fade into the distance.
“Will you relax,” Frank said. “They’ll be fine. It’s us I’m worried about.”
“Why?”
“You gave away our guns! What are we gonna do if we get attacked? Throw our shoes?”
“Let’s hope we can get inside and grab the gear before they get us.”
They drove down the road, scanning both sides for the gun store.
“There it is.”
Ben pointed to a shop ahead of them. Frank followed his line of sight to a big storefront reading ‘Llewellyn and Bough Professional Hunting Supplies’. The front of the building had been destroyed, surrounded by glass and debris. Frank felt his heart sink as they pulled up outside.
“Okay, smart arse. How do we get past them without guns?”
He glanced back at the shop as one of the armed looters looked up from his plundered goods.
25
Lisa reversed up to the DIY depot. Although she had located the building, she had to circle it twice to draw the gathering of zombies away. Now the area was finally clear, she could pull up outside the building.
“Right, here’s the plan. We try that door and see if we can get in. If it’s unlocked, we’ll reverse the van as close as we can and leave the rear doors open. That way we can load up the back without the zombies seeing us.”
“What if there are any inside?” Simon asked.
“Then we kill them.”
“That’s it? There might be loads of them in there.”
“I’ve got more than enough bullets.”
“But what if they all come at—”
“Will you shut up?” Tina snapped. “The longer we discuss it, the more time they have to catch us. Let’s move.”
“She’s right, let’s get inside.” Lisa retrieved the rifle and jumped from the van. She strode around to the building, followed by her companions.
“Are you gonna leave the engine running?” Simon gasped, “We don’t know how long this will take.”
“It’s hot-wired, genius,” Tina replied.
They looked on as Lisa tried the side door. The handle met resistance.
“Looks like we’re smashing our way in. Let’s just ram the shutters and get this done.”
“Wait, there’s a window there.” Tina pointed to a window at the end of the building.
“It’s probably locked as well,” Simon said.
“Yeah, but it’d be easier to get through the window than ramming the bloody shutters.”
“But the noise will attract attention.”
“And ramming the shutters won’t?"
“It’ll be quicker than climbing through the window.”
“Stop,” Lisa interrupted, eyeing the pair with a frown. “Tina’s way does sound like a better option. We’ll try that first.”
Before Simon could protest further, she made her way over to the window. She cupped her hands to the glass and peered inside. The room was empty. After glancing around to ensure they were alone, she struck the window with the butt of the rifle. The pane cracked on one side but remained intact. Lisa swung again, this time striking the centre of the glass. The window shattered, setting off an ear-splitting alarm.
“Great plan genius,” Simon shouted, “What do we do now?”
“We get inside and get this done quickly,”
“What? But that alarm is going to draw every one of those things here.”
“Which is why we need to hurry.”
She raised the rifle as the first zombie rounded the corner. Its head darted left and right before spotting the trio. It emitted a screech until a bullet smashed through its brain.
“Go!”
Lisa ushered the pair over to the window, covering them as they climbed inside. She picked off another two creatures as more cries came from nearby. She looked around, scanning the area for inspiration. Her gaze fell on the van. Checking the loading area one last time, she darted toward the rumbling vehicle.
“What’re you doing?” Tina cried.
Lisa ignored her as she swung the rear doors wide. Running back to the driver’s seat, she fired another shot and jumped inside.
She floored the accelerator, cutting down two more of the undead. She swung the van round until it was facing away from the window. After checking she was perfectly aligned, she dragged the gearstick into reverse. Another manic cry came from beside her as the van flew back. Keeping her foot on the accelerator she struck the wall with an almighty bang.
“Lisa!” she heard Tina call from within the building.
She looked ahead as more of the zombies rounded the corner. In one quick motion, she slid out of her open window and clambered onto the roof of the vehicle. She rose unsteadily as the van was rocked by the first body slamming into the side. Lisa staggered as a succession of hands pounded the van.
“I’m coming in!” she shouted, eyeing the window on the second floor.
It was too high to strike with the butt of her rifle, but she knew a bullet would make short work of the glass. Aiming the weapon high, she fired a single shot, instantly shattering the glass. She looked over her shoulder, feeling her heart sink as more of the monsters came into view.
“Are you okay?”
She barely heard Tina’s muffled voice over the longing wails of the zombies and the whining alarm.
“Yeah!”
Lisa took off her jacket and wrapped it around her hands. The monsters below her roared as they stretched up, desperate to reach the top of the van. With a parting glance at the crowd of faces, Lisa took a step back before running towards the wall. She leapt high and gripped the ruined window frame. The jagged edges of the glass pressed into her palms, but the bulk of the jacket protected her. She pulled herself up and into what looked to be a small office. A desk and chair stood in the corner with a coffee table centred in the middle of the room. A single coat occupied a hook by the door.
A quick scan of the room confirmed that there was nobody present. She looked back outside, eyeing the countless men and women around the van. Before she even counted the remaining bullets in her pocket, she knew they were in trouble.
***
“I’d still prefer another one,” Elaine said, eyeing the sports car with distaste. “We won’t be able to fit much food in there.”
“Who cares, let’s grab stuff and leave.”
“No, she’s right,” Amy interjected. “We’re going to need another car if we hope to get much food.”
“I thought you said we weren’t staying?” Glen whispered.
“I did, and it’ll be easier if we can get a car stocked with food and water for us and one for them. That way we can leave as soon as we meet up with Ben.”
“Fine.” Glen scanned the area, counting five cars, a lorry, and a van. “Let’s check the rest of these.”
The trio spread out across the car park, glancing in the windows of the cars and trying the doors. After he checked the majority, Glen turned his attention to the lorry.
“If we can get in this, we’ll be able to fit the entire shop in the back.”
He approached the driver’s side and pulled the handle. The door swung wide, revealing a wide-eyed trucker on the floor.
“Shit!”
Glen fumbled with the shotgun as the zombie tried to grab him. He pulled the trigger, obliterating the creature’s head.
“Are you okay?” Amy gasped, running to his aid.
“I’m fine.”
With the blast still fresh in their ears, they fell silent, listening for any sounds of approaching undead. Seconds passe
d, with no noise other than Glen’s rapid breathing. The shotgun shook in his trembling hands. Amy looked past him into the driver’s cab.
“Looks like we’re in luck.”
“What?”
“This one has keys.” She pointed to the key chain dangling from the ignition.
“Oh, it has more than that!” Glen gasped. He reached over and grabbed the lighter from the footwell. He held it into view triumphantly.
“Glen, Frank was right; we need your head in the game. Don’t be lighting up a joint when there’s work to do. Let’s get as much stuff as we can and get out of here.”
“Relax,” Glen mumbled, the cigarette clasped between his lips.
He lit the end as they returned to Elaine and approached the shattered storefront. Various food products and other goods littered the entrance. They tread carefully around the discarded items as they stepped onto the threshold.
“Look at this place,” Glen said, eyeing a pile of discarded electrical items. “Why would anyone steal a TV?”
“Some people have no common sense,” Amy replied.
They continued, cringing as their footsteps echoed around the silent supermarket.
“So, shall we get a trolley?” Glen suggested, looking around the vacant space.
“May as well.”
They each retrieved a shopping trolley from the entrance and approached the aisles.
“Remember, we need to get sensible things. Don’t go getting bread and milk. Check the dates on everything. If it expires within six months, we don’t want it.”
“Alcohol’s hardly sensible,” Elaine grumbled.
“I know, but I think your life will be easier if you get Frank what he wants.”
“Can we get going?” Glen whispered, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “I don’t like being here.”
“Okay,” Amy nodded. “Make sure you don’t get any dairy products. Look for tins, jars, cereals, vitamins, biscuits, and sweets.”
“Sweets?” Elaine frowned.
“Yes. They’re a valuable source of sugar and have a long shelf life. They’ll give you energy.”
“I doubt Frank will appreciate that.”
“Call it nurse’s orders. And make sure we raid the medicine supply. Bandages, Paracetamol, Aspirin, Ibuprofen, anything you can get.”
“Can we please get moving?” Glen urged. He pitched the trolley forward, wheeling it down the first aisle and out of sight. Amy and Elaine followed, both choosing different aisles.
Amy scanned the trashed shelves, knocking tins aside that littered the floor. She wrinkled her nose at some of the can’s contents.
“Pepperoni in spaghetti?” she mused under her breath. She replaced the item and walked on. She smiled as the line of baked beans came into view. “Now we’re talking.”
She held out her arm and scooped every tin into the metal basin. She immediately regretted her decision. The metallic clamour echoed around the entire store, ringing in her ears. Elaine gasped in alarm from the next aisle.
“Are you okay?” She hissed.
“Yeah.”
Amy continued down the aisle, placing the rest of the tins in the trolley one at a time. She reached the end and turned down the next aisle which seemed to stock cereals. She filled the trolley with a variety of boxes as Elaine followed her.
“Cereal?”
Amy looked back at her. “Yeah.”
“How long do they last?”
“It’s dry food. It lasts quite a while.”
She turned back as Elaine began filling her trolley with the scattered boxes. Amy continued, zigzagging around the discarded items.
“Why did they throw the boxes around?” She pondered as she turned into the next aisle. Seeing that it was mostly bread products, she moved on to the next, where she saw Glen stood in the middle of the aisle.
“What are you doing?” She hissed, looking at the powerless freezers in front of him.
“What?”
“This is the frozen food aisle.”
“So?”
“So it won’t be frozen anymore. We can’t eat it.”
“We could still take it back?”
“Glen, when the power is down there’re no freezers. If it was winter, we could keep it outside, but we’re in the middle of summer.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right, now hurry. I thought you wanted to get out of here?”
“I do.”
“Then let’s fill the trolleys and go.”
She turned away, leaving Glen behind. He watched her disappear before heading to another aisle. He had already filled most of his trolley, but he knew what he still needed to get. He made his way to the savoury aisle, scanning the semi-occupied shelves.
“C’mon,” he whispered, his eyes roaming the shelves.
Finally, he found the empty box of Cheddar Bites. He let out an exasperated sigh as he checked the rest of the shelves.
“Damn.”
He made to turn back but stopped when his gaze fell on the storeroom door at the end of the aisle. He knew it was risky, but the thought of never tasting his go-to munchie snack again made his heart ache. He approached the door cautiously, looking back to see if the others were close. There was nobody near.
He pushed the door, surprised as it swung inwards. With a final look over his shoulder, he left his trolley and stepped into the dark confines of the storage area.
Ceiling-high metal shelves filled the entire room, each occupied by boxes. Glen walked on, conscious of the noise his footsteps were making in the echoic area. As the endless procession of boxes continued, he began to realise the enormity of his quest. He reached the far end of the row, where more aisles came into view with another line of unopened products.
“Great.”
He begrudgingly turned back to the main store. It was then that he saw the tall zombie blocking his path. An eager grin creased its face as Glen fumbled with his shotgun.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
The creature emitted a guttural roar, causing Glen to lose his grip. The weapon clattered to the ground as the zombie approached.
“Fuck!” Glen cried. He clenched his fists and swung a punch at his attacker as it drew near. The blow collided with the creature’s jaw, sending it staggering into a pile of boxes. Glen stooped down and grabbed the shotgun.
“Screw you!” he roared as he pulled the trigger. The blast perforated his eardrums, filling his head with a high-pitched ringing.
The shot removed half of the zombie’s forehead. Glen looked on as a pool of blood and brain matter crept out of its shattered skull. He lowered the weapon, his entire body trembling.
As his senses returned, he became aware of a new sensation. He raised his hand as a single trickle of blood crept down it. He traced the crimson trail to a small gash halfway up his finger. His heart quickened as realisation dawned. He had grazed the zombie’s teeth when he punched it.
“Oh shit.”
He had no idea how fast the virus would spread; but if Ben was correct, it was transmitted from a bite. He jabbed his finger between his lips and sucked hard. The warm, metallic taste filled his mouth. Turning aside, he spat the blood out and sucked the digit again. The sound of hurried footsteps came nearby as he spat more blood aside.
“Glen?” The voice was Amy’s. She sounded close, but still in the main area of the store. He examined the cut. He had no idea whether he was infected, but hoped he had extracted enough tainted blood to keep him alive. He swept his hand behind his back as Amy burst into the room.
“Glen?” she gasped, surveying the area. “What happened?”
“What do you think?”
“Are you okay?”
“Not yet.” He scanned the floor until he found the cigarette that had fallen from his mouth during the attack. He sighed as he retrieved it from the ground. “Now I’m good. Shall we get moving?”
He ushered Amy back into the main store where Elaine stood waiting. Her trol
ley was overflowing with supplies, as was Amy’s.
“Is everyone okay?” Elaine asked.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Let’s get all this stuff in the lorry and get going.”
He motioned for them to lead the way before grabbing his trolley and following them out of the store.
“Should we bag everything up?” Elaine asked as they passed the checkout area.
“No.”
“I think we should,” Amy countered, “It’ll be easier to get it in and out of the car.”
“Look, I want to get out of here,” Glen said.
“And we do too, but it will take a couple of minutes at the most.”
“Fine.”
The two women quickly packed the shopping into plastic bags while Glen kept watch. Once finished, the trio left the store.
“I’ll take the lorry, you guys can have the car,” Glen said.
Amy looked at him with a furrowed brow.
“I used to work for a haulage company,” he added. “I drove them all the time.”
“Okay, I’ll come with you. That car can only hold one trolley of food.”
She made to follow him but was stopped as Glen blocked her path.
“No, it’s alright. I’ll take your trolley. One of us needs to stay with that car so we can leave in it when we get back.”
Amy looked back at Elaine, who was busy loading the shopping bags into the boot. “Okay, but stay close.”
Glen nodded as he wheeled the two trolleys over to the HGV. He imagined the driver’s corpse lying in the footwell, but he no longer felt afraid. He spun the trolleys as he neared, allowing them to roll sideways the rest of the way. They rattled over the uneven asphalt, before clattering into the wheels of his vehicle.
After a quick scan around him, he pried open the rear doors of the lorry. Rows of packed crates filled the trailer on both sides. Glen snorted as he loaded the contents of their two trolleys. The HGV had enough food to keep them going for months. He glanced down at his finger. A fresh trickle of blood had started to run down his hand once again. He wiped it aside, watching as the line of raw flesh turned crimson once again. The wound throbbed with each beat of his heart; a brutal reminder that the virus could be coursing through his body. Glen sighed dejectedly and slammed the trailer doors. After heading to the front of the cab, he dragged the mutilated body out of the footwell and climbed into the driver’s seat.