by Stevens, GJ
I watched as Zoe blinked a nod and I turned, not waiting for her to process the words; not giving her time to react or to come back with some headstrong plan.
The coppery odour of Chloe's blood was apparent long before we rounded the aisle to see her head lain on Lily's lap. Toby still pushed down bandages to her hand, the scarlet pile at his knees bigger than the fresh stock to his side.
Naomi hung around where the car wedged, the collar of her long coat drawn up tight around her neck. Her white breath reflected in the torchlight.
With only a glance in Chloe's direction, I couldn't hold my gaze any longer. Her face was devoid of movement. Her life still draining out through the bandage.
All but a single lantern at Chloe's side fell to dark, the warehouse near returning to its original forbidding state.
The steel of the car stung my fingers with cold as I leant around the thin wall and past the metal skin, peering into the night lit more than I'd appreciated with the half-moon light.
With the coast clear, I lifted myself around the car. Climbing up the bumper I regretted how easy it was to get past the barrier.
With Andrew climbing at my back, I chanced a rearward look and took a hard swallow as I saw how deep, how completely the Freelander had embedded itself into the opening.
My regret retreated a little as I saw again the fire door wasn't visible from the front of the building, obscured by the tall wall of the main structure to all but the most inquisitive of inspections.
We crept in a line along the prefabricated brick wall, halting as we reached the corner. I turned once again, looked back and saw our entrance punctuated with the Freelander and swallowed a hard breath, knowing if we didn't survive this encounter it wouldn't be long before the others were done for.
Andrew urged me on, pushing at my back, nodding toward my pocket. He was right. I had the gun. I should go first. I was the only one who had a hope in hell of stopping whatever was trying to get into our safe place.
The gun felt heavy in my hand and I regretted not taking a few moments to familiarise myself with its workings. Yes, I'd seen so many in films. Watched those shit TV programmes Naomi thought were muddling my brain, but never had I held one in my hand. Never had my fingers searched in the near pitch black for a safety catch or a cocking slide.
I did what I'd seen so many times before and I slid the top of the gun back. As I did, something fell to my feet with a metallic click and I caught sight of the brass bullet glinting in the moonlight. The gun had been primed by its previous owner. It was already cocked, or whatever the phase was. I should have realised. I'd taken it from someone who'd died trying to defend themselves.
I couldn't see or feel a switch or a catch to the side, but to Andrew's onward urges I pushed the fallen bullet into my pocket and took my chances the gun was still ready to defend.
Peering around the first corner with the gun pointing to the ground, my first view was of my fast, white breath pluming into the air, announcing both our presence and my frantic state.
My second view was the wide-open space of half of the car park and the road entrance from where we'd arrived.
Forging on, I tried to forget there was only a short distance before I would round the corner and see the shutters. Only a short distance before I would see whatever was waiting for us to come, waiting for whatever welcome they would give.
I reached the corner sooner than I'd wanted. Andrew's urges had stopped and I turned to see both still there, their faces a mirror of my concern.
This was my last chance to turn back. This was my last chance to hand the gun over and run to the warm, safe place with the others. But I wasn't that man.
I'd come out for a reason. For many reasons. I'd come to find for certain I wasn't in a comic book, wasn't in a world of horror fiction. I’d come to prove Naomi right.
Oh, how for once I wanted her to be right. The next couple of steps would tell and I raised the gun as I took them slow, very slow, stepping so my feet would make no sound at all.
12
A sudden rasp of the shutters pulled my chest tight as I rounded the corner. The rattle felt so much louder from this vantage.
There stood a silhouette dressed in the bulk of a dark woollen coat, its head hidden and face wrapped with a scarf.
The figure leant into the metal as if listening with intent. I watched on with my breath unwilling to come.
Waiting for what, I wasn’t sure.
Moments later, the figure slumped to the floor and for the first time I could see a larger bundle of blankets at its feet.
My heart settled now I could see the figure who looked more like an unlucky vagrant who'd missed the evacuation, the superstore his normal night-time hangout. I surprised myself at a rising annoyance that Naomi had been right all along.
With my stance relaxing and the gun swinging down in my hand, I turned and a smile bloomed, the vent of tension spreading to my friends.
Andrew was the first to creep past my shoulder and Matt followed. As I turned back and together we stood in a line out in the open, taking a long look into the night.
Andrew coughed. I started in his direction, eyes wide, staring as he stifled the clouds of white air spluttering from his chest.
Spinning back, I saw the figure's head twitch, springing to his feet, jumping up with a vigour not matching his broken-down appearance.
Like the crazed individual I’d feared all along, the figure's arms were out and muffled calls howled from behind numerous scarfs.
My friends left my sight but I would not turn, would not take my attention from the monster racing towards me; the monster who didn't care for the gun pointed at its chest.
The distance swallowed up too soon. I wanted to see Andrew's reaction, wanted to know if I should blast away. Was I right to use lethal force to stop what was happening to Chloe from happening again?
But I couldn’t turn so I had to make the choice alone.
“Stop or I'll shoot,” were the words I shouted, despite knowing they’d be no use. To my surprise the figure’s speed slowed, its steps becoming shallow.
Emboldened by their reaction, I took a step forward, alarming myself as I did and setting a stance I didn't even know I'd taken notice of from the movies.
By now the figure had stopped and instead started backwards, but soon fell over its own feet, stumbling, crashing to the ground with a great huff from his lungs.
He was a vagrant once more, a poor man with nowhere to call home.
Lowering the gun, confused emotions rattling around in my brain, I heard an animal scream from where the tramp had left his belongings.
The blankets had risen, but only to half the height, to become another figure, their scream high, child-like. Their face wasn’t covered. Their golden blonde hair not under a hat. Their cries were not muffled and my head reacted, as did my fear, but in opposite directions as I pulled the trigger.
13
The trigger gave only a soft click. Engulfed with gratitude to the fates, I realised the bullet in my pocket must have been the last.
Empty of breath, I hurried the gun downward, with my gaze rushing to see if anyone had heard the tiny, metallic voice.
I was desperate to find if they knew what I'd got so close to doing. Their faces told me they had. It had been the only sound for miles.
“I'm so sorry,” I said over and over, not telling of what I thought I'd seen. I just watched as the girl ran to clutch around the waist of our stranger.
The figure's hand rose, pulling the scarf from her face to reveal a young woman, her face round, stretched with fear, her arms wrapped around the child's. The kid soon pulled away, looked back up, her face strong with balled features. Her gaze caught the pistol and I stuffed it back in my pocket, pushing out my hand and offering to help the young woman to her feet.
With breath still pluming hard to the air, she held back, kept her hand low and made no attempt to rise until Andrew surged forward. He didn’t wait for an answer before he t
ook her weight.
No one asked questions or put up any resistance as we helped the pair climb through the barricaded fire exit and into the relative warmth.
Andrew took the lead, tried his best to shield the view of Chloe still laid on the ground. He needn't have worried as the circle of three friends who'd remained stood to block any stranger, friend or foe, with crowbars and hammers bared in their hands.
Only Naomi kept her grip solid on the handle of the claw hammer as the stranger's features clarified in the light.
I winced as I thought how much she would revel in the story about to be told.
To my surprise the events were not recounted by either of the pair. They were sisters, both too young to be anything else to each other, the woman having just left her teens, the kid only just turning double figures. Their features were almost a match, their long blonde hair and blue eyes glinting in the torchlight. It was only their height and definition in the cheeks which gave away the difference.
I overheard the whispered answers to slow questions fired their way as I knelt beside our patient. Their names were Cassidy, the eldest, and Ellie, the younger.
Chloe's body lay motionless and I feared the worst. Lily's blood-soaked fingers were no longer wrapped around the palm of the injured hand.
I dared not prompt the answer I desperately sought, but Lily seemed to understand and told me the bleeding had stopped only moments before.
I saw the first of the shallow breaths and for the first time today I felt a wash of happiness. Staying sat at her side I let myself relax, let the others disperse and gather more supplies.
After a hearty meal and with my shoulders wrapped in blankets, I felt an immense gratitude we'd found this place. A gratitude because we'd stumbled somewhere perfect to wait until the rescue party's arrival.
Dozing as I sat, head falling forward, I listened to Cassidy recount how their day had started.
“We got the call to evacuate in the early hours of the morning. Literally on the phone, an automated message telling us to ring the police if we needed to verify the call. The electricity had already gone by then and the phones went dead soon after. The radio was no help other than giving the same message, which didn't tell us what the hell was going on. We set off with my parents, but soon we were in tailbacks longer than we'd ever seen around here. After hours in traffic the Land Rover gave up about half way to the A30, so we hitched a lift on a bus already near bursting. We had to stand, huddled in the aisle right at the front.
“We came to the roadblock mid-morning. People were streaming from cars, just leaving their vehicles blocking the road so they could walk towards the head of the queue. When the driver disappeared out of his door, we had no choice. Everyone forced against us so they could rush between the parked cars. Dad was the first to spot a long line of coaches, one after another leaving the head of the roadblock. As we grew closer, we saw each already over-filled, with only two remaining and a long, wide line of people heading towards their direction. It wasn't long before the panic started. A ripple of excitement ran through the crowds, leaving behind an urgency to get on one of those coaches.
“We tried to hold each other's hands, but it was near impossible. I ended up carrying Ellie most of the way. People were shouting. Elbows shoved out. Teeth baring like they were wild animals. We got separated from Mum and Dad as I tripped. I stumbled over an abandoned case or something. It took ages to battle back into the flow clutching Ellie, everyone rushing, pushing with their elbows out, surging forward like rabid creatures.
“Then came the gunshots.”
14
Her voice stopped as I looked up, my gaze catching on Cassidy's as I realised how much attention I'd been paying to her words.
Seeing me move, Ellie, the little sister, screwed up her face and shuffled closer to Cassidy, who accepted the arm around her shoulders under the blanket.
The night had grown colder, my breath alive in the low torch light. Whilst my head was bowed, I may have drifted off.
Matt, Lily and Toby had crowded around Chloe. Each sat on a bed of pillows and blankets.
I lingered on the patient's pale face and her distant expression before breaking the silence. My voice croaked as I pulled the blankets tighter over my shoulders.
“Your parents?” I said, trying to keep the words soft. Regretting as the sound came out, realising the effect of the words and expecting a shower of tears.
They didn't come, just a shake of the head.
“We ran,” Cassidy said. “The gunfire was so rapid, the screams cutting, it wasn't a place you wanted to hang around. We ran until the noise stopped and never looked back.”
“What did you do then?” Naomi said.
“Waited,” Cassidy replied.
Zoe, who'd been sitting loose to their side, edged herself closer, pressing her hands around Cassidy's free left.
“We waited for hours, but when the explosion happened and that jet, I decided we needed to get further away, find shelter, food.” Her voice cut short, the words catching in her throat.
“They're probably fine,” Zoe said, telling me off with a pointed look my way.
I nodded a shallow reply and turned my gaze back to the dark floor.
Lily was the next to come closer to our little group, her face betraying her eagerness to get the questions she really wanted the answers to. It didn't take long before she leant in, offering an open bar of chocolate in the kid’s direction.
Ellie looked up to her sister and, receiving a nod, she took a row.
Lily didn't wait.
“So,” she said with an unaccustomed hesitation, “while you were out there did you…?” she said again, before stopping herself short.
Naomi gave a great sigh.
“Did you see anything strange?” Naomi said, her voice loud in the darkness.
All faces flicked to hers and she rolled her eyes, but the group's attention switched back to Cassidy.
Nods ran around the room, urging on the answer.
I didn’t look up straight away, but when silence was the only reply I turned up with intrigue. Could we be about to find out one way or another if I was going nuts?
Cassidy's gaze fell to Ellie as she devoured the last of her chocolate.
Lily lent forward, offering another.
“Then that's it,” Cassidy said, as Ellie broke off the squares.
Checking she was occupied, Cassidy looked around the room to take in each of our faces.
Like me, I knew their hearts would be racing, too. She lingered as each gaze caught, her lids lowering just a little until she moved on.
“Like what?”
I kept quiet and glanced to Naomi, making it clear I wasn’t about to influence the answer.
It was Toby who spoke, all heads spinning around to the dim light shrouding the vigil.
“You were out there longer than us,” he said, his face more eager than his voice betrayed.
Cassidy drew a deep breath, sparking Ellie to give a wide yawn. Cassidy let the child get herself comfortable as she fidgeted at her side. She let her nuzzle down on her thigh, let her eyes close and her breath turn to a soft purr before she spoke.
“We saw emptiness,” she said.
I tried to stop myself leaning forward, getting closer with each of her words.
“We saw people being inhuman.”
“What do you mean?” Zoe said, not giving Cassidy the chance to draw breath.
“We saw people dead, killed with guns. We saw people acting like animals. People fending for themselves. It's only been a day and already the mask has slipped.”
As a group we leant forward as she paused. I squinted at Naomi and watched as she sat back, forcing a look of disinterest.
“Anything else?” Zoe said, her voice quivering.
The silence ate up the atmosphere, plumes of breath rolling in the centre of the group giving away our apprehension.
“We saw,” she said, and the cloud of breath stopped, “people left
for dead, so many people,” she said, her voice betraying she wasn't finished.
Still she paused. “Left for dead, but they weren't.”
No one spoke despite the volley of questions we each had ready.
Again, it was Zoe who broke the silence.
“What do you…?” she said, but I interrupted.
“Can anyone else smell smoke?”
15
“Shush,” came Naomi's irritated reply. “Let her speak,” she said, her eyes pinched in my direction.
“No one else?” I said, scouring each of the distracted faces in the shadows. “Really?” I snapped, then gave up as all gazes were on the newcomer.
Taking a long draw of breath through my nose, I could swear I still smelt bitter smoke but put it down to tiredness when Zoe spoke.
“So, what did you mean, they weren't dead?”
Cassidy shook her head, rubbing her temple with her free hand.
“Just what I said. Not everyone was dead. Some people were laying on the ground, thrashing around.” Her voice grew desperate with a sadness greater than before. Her eyes squinted as if trying to block the images in her mind.
“I wanted to help. I wanted to do something about their pain, but I couldn't take Ellie there. I wanted to. I really did.”
“It's all right,” Zoe said, handing over a square of tissue. “There's nothing you could have done, I’m sure.”
“That's it?” I said, regretting my tone as the words flowed, then tried to ignore the glares which returned. “Nothing else?” I said, softening my tone.
Cassidy shrugged.
“It was,” she said, checking her sister's eyes, “pretty fucking unusual for us. Does this kind of shit happen often to you?” Her voice was high and her tone cutting.
I didn't need to look to Naomi to know a one-sided smile hung on her face. I let the silence linger. Let moments pass, listening to the gentle breath of Ellie, a slight rasp on her breath.