“I know it will get harder, but that was a good trip, it should keep us going for a week if we’re careful. We can head in the other direction tomorrow and see what we find.” Their options were limited, Amy knew they had to play the hand they had.
“If the group was smaller, we might make it. Just two or three less mouths to feed might make the food go far enough for a few weeks until some of those crops the pensioners love so much start to really contribute.” Gareth wasn't wrong, but he wasn't in the right. Despite his charm Amy knew this was the real Gareth, a self-centred prick who would sell his own grandmother.
“I'm not abandoning anyone.”
“Three to save the rest, four to be certain.” Gareth had thought through the maths but Amy had heard enough and stormed ahead back towards the farmhouse. Any last inkling Gareth had of staying was put down. He was going, and he wasn't about to be kind over what he would take, hell, he'd scavenged more than anyone else. He deserved it.
Peter approached Amy wearing an awkward and gormless smile. She was in no mood for pleasantries and burst past him, Peter was confused and looked to Gareth for an explanation who was happy to deliver one.
“You've got a real way with women Petey, she says she knows you've been watching her bathe.”
“I've not, I wouldn’t.”
“It's fine Pete, she's an attractive woman.”
“But I wouldn’t.”
Gareth smiled “She's fine, I think she's on her monthlies, it's fine. You need to come out on one of these trips, hanging around with those old people is not good for you.”
“They're not all old, anyway, I hate it out there. I'm not cut out for fighting monsters.”
Gareth knew Peter wasn't lying, but there was something he liked about Peter showing his vulnerabilities, admitting to them and laying them out for all to see. It was refreshing, something he rarely saw in business and even less after the feeders started appearing. It also tickled his ego, he was better than this man, and it was there for all to see.
“Pete, if you want to make it in this frightening new world, get involved, you can't just lock yourself in a house and wait for it to all blow over. This isn't going to get better, this is it now and I won't always be there to watch out for you.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
IT WAS PITCH black in the farmhouse. People slept wherever there was space in the bedrooms, livingroom and hallways. Bo rudely awoke Gareth shaking his shoulder as he slept in an armchair.
“Come on pretty boy, it's your shift.”
It was nearly 5am and the faint glimmer of light from the earliest signs of dawn were beginning to show. He'd asked for this shift, having previously insisted on doing the first sentry duty. It normally entailed little more than staying awake and checking if any feeders came too close. Amy would often perform a perimeter check inside of the thick stone walls, but when you had an assault rifle, it was a little easier being a little braver. Gareth normally sat watching people, never leaving the house just watching those sleep. Hearing them breathe and snore he felt more connected to other human beings than he had ever done. And still he was about to abandon them all.
Gareth slowly rose to his feet and saw Bo leave to one of the bedrooms to join Babs. He would have a coffee, a stretch then gather supplies before leaving just before the sun fully rose, he'd have maybe an hours head start before his departure would be noticed. They'd be foolish to follow him. The supplies in the kitchen weren't much, but he helped himself all the same. A few tins and packets, bottled water and chocolate. He'd never been one for chocolate, but wanted the calories. He had seven shotgun shells left, but decided it wasn't worth the risk getting any of Bo's and Amy was all but fucking that rifle she held it so tight, so a hatchet would suffice at improving his defensive capabilities.
Slowly he crept to the front door, eager not to wake any of the occupants.
“Gareth? What are you doing?” Fucking Peter. It had to be him.
“I thought I heard something, outside I'm just going to check. Go back to sleep.” Peter looked at Gareth, squinting in the darkness, something wasn't right.
“What's in the bag?” Gareth positioned his backpack out of view.
“Peter, go to fucking bed.” Gareth opened the door and stepped out as Peter grabbed his shoulder.
“Don't, we need you.” Gareth shook him off and pushed him back inside.
“If you say anything I swear I'll kill you.” He slowly closed the door and walked off as more sunlight crept over the horizon.
*
Peter stood in the hallway in front of a closed bedroom door, he had to say something but couldn't. He didn't really think he and Gareth were friends, but they could have been. He had little doubt that Gareth would follow through with his threat, but he had even less doubt the group needed that whatever food Gareth had taken. He reached out, gently knocked and waited a moment. With no response he knocked again, only harder and louder. Amy opened the door, naked and exhausted. The room had no bed and would have struggled to fit anything bigger than an infant's cot. This had become Amy's room only because it was too small for anyone else to want to sleep in it. Peter looked at Amy's perfect physique, her small pert breasts caught the sunlight through a window.
“Get over them Peter, they're just tits.” Peter stumbled back about a foot with a look of shame. “What's wrong?” Amy was too tired to beat around the bush, as she always was and didn't think she'd be disturbed for a couple of hours.
“He's gone, Gareth, he's left and taken some of the supplies.” Amy huffed as she hurriedly dressed herself.
“Where did he go and when?”
Amy was only half dressed as she entered Bo and Bab's room.
“Bo, Gareth has gone and taken food, I'm going for an early run, you're in charge.” Bo mumbled something to himself as he sat up and tried to understand what was happening.
“All right, you get the prick.” She led Peter out of the farmhouse he had his spear, she had the rifle.
“Peter, you will need to do the right thing, if we catch up to him. It might get nasty.” Peter nodded, he was aware what could happen but hoped it wouldn't go that way. He almost hoped they wouldn't find him, but he had to be seen to try.
The pace was a struggle for Peter, and the farmhouse wasn't even out of sight yet and he could feel himself struggling to keep his breathing under control. A small patch of woodland lay a little further ahead, the pace would have to slow there as they took greater care. The ground evened out as they moved closer, the woodland was dense but little more than a thick pocket of trees at the corner of four fields. As they entered Peter could feel his heart beating like a jackhammer in his chest, the dark shadows and sound of a few song birds put him on edge. Amy looked back and waited for Peter to draw level. There was no point in getting frustrated. He was five times more able than most of the group, but the bar was depressingly low. Peter had stopped dead in his tracks and began to lower himself to a crouch, silently signalling with his head as he lowered. Amy followed suit and turned, afraid what she might see, what Peter was fixated on. It was Gareth. His backpack slung over both shoulders and shotgun firmly in hand, he was crouching behind a tree staring out to the other side of the woodland to an open field. He really hadn't got far, maybe he had changed his mind, remorse possibly coursed through him about what his act of selfishness meant to the lives of many more. He wasn't looking back, he was looking forward. His heart hadn't prevented him going further, his survival instinct had.
“What the fuck Gareth?” Amy was more exasperated than angry he turned slowly around as the 5.56mm muzzle pressed against the back of his neck.
“You need to get down, now.” He was calm but forceful. Amy looked out into the field and moved down next to Gareth.
“What the fuck?” She couldn't believe what she saw, she signalled Peter to move up and join them, he awkwardly scrambled over and stared open-mouthed ahead.
There were hundreds of the feeders in the field, slowly wandering in circles o
r standing still and waiting. There were several of the big ones, waddling through the regular ones. Some were older, infected early, bags of skin and bone. Others were new, maybe just a few days old, their flesh not yet robbed of all of its colour or shape. Nothing seemed to keep them in the field apart from a weak wire fence bordering the woodland and the gate that was still half open, any effort would have seen them breakthrough. It was unclear how they got here or why they stayed after they had devoured the livestock, but there they were, waiting for a meal to present itself.
Gareth knew he was in trouble, he had thought he wouldn't of been followed, he didn't take too much and hoped it wouldn't be worth the calories. Obviously he didn't count on a former police officers' strong natural instinct for justice.
“You shouldn't have come after me.”
“Well we did, and now we have this situation. Why didn't you just go round?” He'd asked himself the same question, he couldn't think of a good answer.
“We should go back.” Peter had long breached his comfort level and was doing everything he could to not run in the opposite direction. Amy shook her head.
“We can't go back, we need to lead these things away. We're less than half a mile from the house, if these things got loose, we don't have enough bullets or shells to take out half of them. We'd be wiped out.”
Dread began to fill Peter as he realised what Amy would suggest. It would be suicide, for him at least if not his two fitter companions.
“We need to lead them away, make a lot of noise, ping a few of them then have them chase us for a few miles before we break away.” Gareth crossed his head.
“The three youngest sacrificing themselves for the elderly and infirm, where's the fucking sense in that?”
Amy paused for a moment, these two would never budge. Through fear or selfishness, they were not about to put the needs of the group above their own. She stood herself up, to the horror of her two male companions, shouldered the rifle and let out two single shots with the first striking the torso of one of the big feeders, the second a kneecap of a regular one. The big one stumbled back and let out a loud roar in disapproval, the regular crumbled to the floor, its thin and wiry leg missing flesh and the muscle snapped as it hit the ground.
“Run!” Amy screamed as she set off in the opposite direction of the house.
Peter and Gareth gave chase as the monsters began to mass at the small fence pushing against it. It creaked and deformed until the sheer weight of the fiends collapsed several sections of it and those behind climbed over them in a hurry to catch up to their fresh meals. Gareth turned and let off two desperate blasts from his shotgun peppering several of the nearest group. He soon caught up with Amy.
“You're fucking crazy.” She turned and let two three-round bursts out felling a single pursuer and aggravating several more.
“This way you hungry fucks!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.
Peter was nearly crying. So many. So close. It was all right for Amy and Gareth, they had guns and they were fit. Maybe they were banking on him falling first and succumbing to the hands and mouths of those greedy things to buy themselves more time. He became angry. Those arseholes weren't sacrificing themselves, they were sacrificing him. He gained a yard of pace and punched through the pain. He’d show those fuckers, he wouldn't be their offering to the feeders. He would not die today.
Amy and Gareth sporadically stopped, putting a few more ineffectual shots into the following herd. Peter wondered if they'd be tempted to put one in his leg to slow him down but he couldn't do much if they did. Amy was firing aware that it wasn't having a real effect on stopping the pursuers, but more noise would maintain their interest and make sure they continued following. Gareth wasn't in on the plan and very much just wasting his ammo.
“You need to stop shooting. I've got more rounds than you. Save them if they get close.”
Peter had nearly caught up with his fitter comrades and cursed them under his breath as they began to put more space between themselves and the feeders.
“Okay, slow down a little get your breath back, we can't push too far ahead and risk they’ll lose interest.” Amy had barely broken a sweat and Peter was in the middle of coughing up a lung.
“Fuck you. I'm keeping going, you can dangle your ass in front of them if you want, but I'll keep on jogging if it's just the same to you.” Gareth continued leaving a panting Peter and Amy taking aim to let another burst of fire into the crowd.
“You okay, Peter?” Peter looked up at Amy with hate in his eyes.
“You, you left me to die. I can't keep up with you two, look at me.” Amy fired another single round felling a single feeder.
“You are capable of this, you're here aren't you. Now let's go.” Amy patted Peter on the shoulder and encouraged him to get moving to keep their lead intact.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
THE RANGE ROVER Discovery was caked in blood and body parts. All uselessly tinged with grey, not a scrap of edible meat amongst it gory mess. Natasha had finished the last of her fresh meat that morning, it wasn't enough to satisfy but it settled her. Since society fell, good meals had become few and far between, the lesson she had learned was turning up covered in blood was a bad idea. Her prey were suspicious of strangers, one soaked in blood wouldn't get too close. When she had been desperate, she had approached a couple, she hadn't even thought of how she looked, she was just too hungry. She hadn't noticed the man had a knife until he slashed out at her, he nipped her shoulder but she had been too quick. His wife could only look on in horror as Natasha ripped out his throat and gorged herself on his flesh. Natasha used his knife to butcher the woman, packing away for a takeaway meal what she couldn’t force down. The wound to her shoulder was mild, it didn't bleed much, her greying blood clotting quickly, scarring over within a day, but next time she might not be so lucky. Look like the living, feed like the dead. She scavenged cloths with nearly the same reverence as meat. Running out of her normal human disguise would only make food harder to come by. The government camps were not a safe place for her, plenty of food but plenty of guns and scientists prodding the voluntarily incarcerated for answers to this plague. She had spent time right at the beginning in a tiny camp where she witnessed this firsthand. Fortunately for her, but not the rest of those seeking sanctuary within the fences, they had built it in haste, with little thought given about what would happen next. Unlike the camps established even days later, it was built far too close to a major built up area. It was easy to get people to, but hard to stop the feeders getting close. When dozens, became hundreds and then thousands, the soldiers couldn't stop them. The sheer mass of feeders collapsed the fence and within an hour Natasha was eating with her own kind, fighting the dead not for survival but for food. She ate well that day.
She had been driving for an hour, hunting. She was looking for survivors, people she could befriend then eat. She'd been doing that for a few weeks with success, but people were a declining resource. Her breakfast was a day old, she wanted something fresh to satisfy her hunger. And there he was, an attractive man running towards her from over the brow of the hill, dinner but first a date, perhaps. Gareth waved his arms, his shotgun above his head desperate to get her attention. Natasha stopped the car and awaited this desperate man to come to her. He made up the ground quickly and she wound the window down.
“Are you going my way?” Natasha couldn't contain her excitement. Gareth smiled back
“There are hundreds of them coming this way. We need to go.” As much as he was happy to see an attractive woman willing to flirt, he knew what was coming.
“Get in then.” Gareth didn't need asking twice and made his way to the front passenger seat, the state of the outside of the car didn't phase him, the car was immaculate inside. Gareth signalled to get moving, bashing the dashboard with his fists.
“Come on!” Natasha smirked as she followed his orders, purposefully at a slower pace to make Gareth uncomfortable.
Peter was the first to
emerge and catch sight of the car, Amy was close behind facing their pursuers. Peter tried to scream at Amy that there was a car, but his lungs were on fire and his breath blocking any words. Amy fired into the feeders as they continued to close unhindered by tiredness or lack of breath, the rifle clicked as she pulled on the trigger and noticed the bolt had held open. The empty magazine dropped to the floor and pinged as it bounced off the hard ground, Amy fumbled for a fresh magazine as she turned and saw what Peter had tried to tell her about.
The car moved off slowly. Amy regained focus and loaded the rifle and fired twice at the feeders behind and turned back towards the vehicle. The car stopped dead, then reversed at speed. Peter started to jog towards it, safety was so close, but his energy was nearly spent. Amy caught up and grabbed him by the arm and dragged him forward. The car was yards away, the driver's window wound down and a slim, attractive girl smiled at them.
“I'm Natasha and I’ll be your Uber driver.” Gareth took a step out of the car.
“Hurry the fuck up.” Amy helped Peter into the back before climbing in herself just as the first of the beasts reached the car.
A full hundred of them had already emerged from the woods, following them, the food. More continued to spill out eager to catch sight of their meal.
“We need them to follow us for a few miles, don't lose them.” Amy was still on mission, if this mob lost interest they could head in any direction with the farmhouse providing an easy meal if they stumbled across it.
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