Todd snarled. “What?”
“Until last night, Todd, we were partners—girlfriend and boyfriend, the parents of that little baby boy in the other room. But I’ve come to the realization that it’s no longer going to work.”
“Why?”
“Fucking her,” she pointed the knife at the blonde girl, not even sure which one he’d been with, “might have something to do with it.” Both Todd and the blonde girl looked down. “Added to your lazy-ass efforts around here since this thing happened. Okay, you went out to find food once. Eighty percent of what you brought back was alcohol. I’ve asked you repeatedly to do things. All you’ve managed to do is find these girls from upstairs and eat most of the food we did have for everyone else.” She shrugged. “We’re all sick of it. I’m sick of it. Either you start helping—by getting food, firstly—or you get out. That’s the deal.”
Todd considered this. He looked to the others for support, but nobody met his gaze. To Lauren, he said, “Or what, you’ll stab us all?”
“No, Todd. Just you. While you’re sleeping.”
It felt good saying that. She wouldn’t do it, but at that moment, he didn’t know if she was serious.
“Fine,” he said, gathering up his shirt. “We’ll go.”
“I’m not going,” Brunette snapped. Todd snarled.
“You need to go across the road to the market,” Lauren said. “They’ll have rice, flour, and staples—get as much of that as you can.” The idea that they might not return flashed through her mind, but if that’s what it came to, Lauren was prepared for it.
“What about the other places?” Todd asked. “Anywhere else we can go?”
“The 7-Eleven on the corner of Elizabeth Street and Franklin.”
She tried to think of something inspiring to say, to bridge the conflict, bring them back together as a group, but she was empty. Her mother or father would have found the right words. They had a knack of knowing what to say in the moment. Maybe it came to a person after they had kids.
They left soon after. Todd didn’t even look back.
THIRTEEN
Jacob climbed down from the seat at the edge of the wall and sat, watching Rebecca. It was a small room in the railway station building, connected to a larger waiting area via a door. Jacob had deemed the smaller section more prudent to their needs because it had steel gates on both sides and two access points. They might still find themselves trapped, but it was the best of a bad situation.
“Still there?”
He nodded. The zombies had amassed at the fence on the opposite side of the tracks. Jacob couldn’t believe they hadn’t worked out that if they wandered further along the railway line they’d find a crossing. He had not intended, when they climbed the fence, for the train station to become their place of safety, even for the night. On arrival, they had absolutely nothing besides the ax. No vehicle, food, or clothes. He had sat almost three hours, waiting for the feeders to break down the wire barrier and find them. They should have kept going, but Jacob had decided it was time to stop and think it out.
Later, under cover of darkness, and without any light to guide him, Jacob fumbled his way further up the line away from the gathering, and cut across the tracks. Rebecca lapsed into silence when he told her his plan. Jacob was reluctant to leave her, but he scouted the area to make sure it was clear, and left her with the ax. He made it through the shrubbery, and snuck across the road to a small, noiseless supermarket nestled amongst a row of other stores. He ended up hitting gold, including what he considered the most remarkable thing: a revolver. It even had five rounds. There was enough food to necessitate several trips. He went back and forth, hands full of plastic bags and kids’ backpacks into which canned goods, matches, batteries, and water were stuffed. There were various zombie activities during the supermarket runs, and Jacob decided to hang tight during the night and wait for the safety of daylight.
They still had the zombies beyond the wire fences to consider. Even if they managed to sneak past the barricades, there were too many of them in the town—they couldn’t win on foot. If he was alone, he might risk it, but Rebecca’s life was too valuable to put in such a situation
Silence had settled over them for a time, when Rebecca asked Jacob to talk about her mother. He did, finding himself falling easily into the recollection. As much as he had loved his second wife, Monica, Jennifer had been the love of his life. He had built his hopes and dreams around her. They traveled together, made plans for building their dream home, and Jennifer was planning a return to study. They laughed endlessly in the early days, before Jacob stripped away the joys of their lives with his absence. How he regretted it all these years past. Sometimes things didn’t work out as expected.
“Sounds like you loved her.”
“Oh, I do. I’ve never stopped.”
She did not ask any more after that, lapsing into another long silence. He’d thought the music discussion might have given him some credibility and lured her out of her shell. He wasn’t giving up though.
The small building grew hotter as the sun rose past its zenith. They drank the water without care, and picked at a tasty Italian oil tuna in a can, which they spread on crackers. The remaining supplies stayed in the backpacks and plastic bags in case they needed to leave in a hurry.
When Jacob checked through the high window of the building again, he found the fence had collapsed in one place.
“Shit.”
“What is it?”
“They’ve broken through. Get your backpack on. Grab the ax.”
Jacob ran to the front gate and pulled the bolt from the hole with a resistant screech. It appeared they were coming from the northern side, which meant they’d have to go south. But when he finally drew the gate open, the zombies were everywhere, covering all available exits. Jacob turned around to call for Rebecca, when she ran into him.
“You got a pack?” She nodded, holding up the ax in her right hand. The left contained multiple plastic bags chocked with supermarket items. “Good. Don’t move.” He raced back into the small room and scooped up a half-dozen plastic bags with one hand and two backpacks with his right, slinging them in a sloppy fit over his shoulder. The gun. Get the gun. There was a moment of terror when he was certain it wouldn’t be where he had stashed it. He was wrong though, and he dropped the chamber out, ensuring there were still five rounds.
Rebecca snuck back in behind the gate as feeders wandered about the railway yard. Jacob stood motionless on the platform as he tried to locate a visual pathway through the horde. Male and female zombies of every age and size stumbled over the tracks. Somehow, they hadn’t spotted them yet, but he knew it was coming. Their only advantage was the platform sitting four feet above the tracks. Jacob doubted any of them could climb up onto it, but if the zombies wandered further down the station, they would find a ramp by which they would eventually reach the pair. They had to move.
After careful examination, Jacob thought he had spied a way out. The feeders struggled walking over the railway line. Many had fallen, and most failed to negotiate the steel tracks with any proficiency.
“South,” Jacob said. “Straight down the center of the tracks. No stopping, okay?”
Rebecca nodded, her voice trembling. “Okay.”
Jacob leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You swing that ax if any get too close, alright? But don’t worry. I will not let anything happen to you.” She managed a faint smile. “Walk down the platform then we jump off the end.”
Rebecca led them, feet moving faster than Jacob had imagined, bags slapping against her legs. He was proud of her courage, thankful she was finally doing what he asked. Jacob hung back a step, watching the feeders. At first, they didn’t notice, wandering in circles and bumping into each other. He thought they might have caught a lucky break. But then a large woman wearing a flowery dress and a huge swell of breast spied Rebecca. She grunted, alerting others, and then they were stumbling after them, eyes locked on his daughter.
Rebecca hesitated. “Keep going,” Jacob said. She did, hurrying away from the edge of the platform. Jacob fought the urge to shoot the fat woman for blowing their cover, but she didn’t pose a threat yet and he refused to waste twenty percent of their ammo on her.
As they approached the end, Jacob took the lead, glancing back along the tracks. He had hoped they might have gained a head start, but the fat woman led a pack of a dozen or so, as though she had spied them first and they would be her kill. Jacob had to decide whether they should abandon the plan or make a run for it. If they returned to the train station building, the feeders would eventually find their way in. Of that, he was sure. But where would they run? How far down the tracks would they make it?
In the distance, Jacob saw the V/Line train they had passed the previous day. There was another machine beside it, along with a collection of items stacked to the side of the tracks. At worst, he supposed, they could climb up into the train and hide there.
Jacob took over the lead and slipped down off the platform, losing half the bags in the process. By the time he picked several up off the rocky tracks and slung a backpack over each shoulder, the lead zombie was almost upon them. “Quick.”
Rebecca hesitated, eyeing the oncoming threat. “No, I want to stay. It’s too dangerous.”
He didn’t think this was her being difficult, but terror at the prospect of being caught. “Now, Rebecca. Jump. I’ll catch you.”
She wasn’t going to do it. Jacob thought about shooting the closest feeders, but what happened after five rounds? He would be out of ammo, and whilst the ax might take a few more down, they’d be quickly overcome. Rebecca wasn’t going anywhere. He reached out and grabbed her hand, yanking her forward. She tumbled off the platform, cursing him.
She hit him in the stomach with her knee on her way down, knocking the wind from him. Gasping, Jacob wheeled, facing the fat woman who had closed the gap to ten feet. Beyond her, they were lining up like ticketholders at a Black Eyed Peas concert. The gun. Even then, he wouldn’t have it out in time. Rebecca was on one knee, fumbling with the bags. They had to go. Jacob took her hand and pulled, moving along the tracks. She cried out, dragging one leg over the sharp stones. This was not looking after her, keeping her safe, as he had promised. This was taking her to the edge, risking her life. She couldn’t find her feet. Jacob lifted, feeling the muscles in his left shoulder twinge, but she came off the ground, her shoes circling. When he lowered her, she found them, and then she was running beside him, crunching over the packed stones.
Jacob twisted around, expecting to find them on their heels, mouths open, poised to take chunks of flesh from their backs. But the gap was decent, at least ten, maybe fifteen yards, and the throng had thinned—no less numbers—but they were spread out further.
“Look out!” Rebecca shouted.
Only yards ahead, a man in slacks and a checked shirt waited. The skin of his wretched face was almost the color of his pale, wispy hair. Flesh hung in flaps from his bicep and forearms. Jacob knew instantly that other feeders had taken chunks from him, and he would take chunks from them. There was no time to pull out the gun or the ax; Jacob did all he could think to do. He smashed directly into the zombie like a rugby player, tucking his shoulder low to hit the thing directly in the chest. The lack of weight surprised him. The feeder fell back against the tracks with a crunch and they ran right over him.
“Keep going,” Jacob hissed. He was almost out of breath. His lungs burned, and a pain in the lower left section of his belly spoke of too much time sitting at his desk. But he would move until his heart stopped or his lungs collapsed. There was no other choice. Their one advantage was ground speed. They quickly moved away from the chasing horde, opening up a gap of fifteen yards. That was the break they were after.
They were still coming as they reached the V/Line train, but the distance had opened up and he now had time to make decisions. Other zombies flitted about on either side of the track in pursuit.
They staggered along the rocks and walked around the side of the train, heading towards the front. Some of the carriages were for freight, empty now, as though goods were to be loaded. Further on, other items had been assembled beside the tracks, and a picture of what had been going on formed in Jacob’s mind. The stuff was old, almost antique, but some of it had been cleaned up and painted. It was as though all the equipment was being sent somewhere for an exhibition, but the loading process had been abandoned halfway through. There was a small hand-powered railcar, a number of old railway signs, three signal boxes, part of a gate, and various other items that Jacob couldn’t identify. None of it helped them though. They walked further along the line, conscious that the feeders were now gaining on them.
They reached the end of the collection where a larger railway handcar sat on one set of tracks, and the V/Line driver carriage on the other. This is what they had spotted from the other side of the fence the day before. An idea struck Jacob. He had been planning on using the main train for safety, but the truth was, he couldn’t move it anywhere. If they stayed in the train, they’d be stuck there until the zombies decided they were of no value or someone came to rescue them. Either option might mean never.
He stood in the stones at the edge of the tracks, deep in thought, Rebecca beside him, glancing back at their oncoming attackers. “We have about thirty seconds,” she said. “And there’s more coming from the other side.”
Jacob thought he might have a way out. Whilst the wheels on the handcar possessed flecks of rust, the body and chassis had been repainted. It might work. How far did the tracks go? V/Line trains always linked to major cities so he assumed these tracks would lead to Melbourne. Sure, there might be other trains in the way at some point, but for now, they had a clear run. He couldn’t think of a better idea, and the thought of being stuck in the V/Line without going anywhere was claustrophobic.
“Up on this,” he said, stepping towards the handcar. He swung the bags onto the platform, the backpacks, and then the ax, keeping it at close hand in case.
“This?” Rebecca asked in disbelief. “Where are we going on this?”
“Out of here. Move. They’ll be here in a moment.” Jacob was confident now they were going to be okay, that he would keep Rebecca safe, as promised. He had lost all the others, but not her, his daughter, the last one.
He took the bags off Rebecca and helped her up onto the handcar. The feeders were close—he had to give them credit for their unwavering persistence. He supposed they would chase them all the way to Melbourne if nothing else of greater value appeared along the way. Jacob swung a leg up onto the platform and pushed himself on.
He had never used one before. A post stood in the center about thigh height. From it, a long bar sat horizontal with two handles on each end. Jacob supposed they could stand on either side and both pump—one down, the other up, and vice versa—but he believed one person could probably drive it. He shifted his position, trying not to knock any of their supplies off the edge; floor space was limited. He took the handle and pushed down about ten inches, feeling the resistance of time and inactivity. He pulled upwards, his arms straining, and the other side of the handlebar lifted. A rod connected underneath followed the bar upwards. Jacob trailed the connector rod down and saw it moving in a slow circle. At the base of the machine, a crank began to turn a large gear.
“Hurry.” The handcar moved several inches. “Yes!” Rebecca shouted. “Keep going. They’re here.”
The number of feeders chasing had doubled. It was as though they had put a call out to each other. The first hands clubbed the side of the handcar. A face appeared near his feet and he kicked out, striking it in the nose. It tumbled away, but others took its place.
He pumped the handlebar again, pushing harder, realizing it was going to take maximum effort to get the thing moving. But it was moving, although the feeders clutching at the sides were starting to quell their momentum. Their slobbering noises grew loud, and the smell of their decaying flesh a
nd rotted aftermath of feeding stirred the thin semblance of food in Jacob’s stomach.
“Get the ax and knock them away.” Rebecca bent over and picked it up. It suddenly looked far too big for her. “But don’t get too close.” She began swatting at them, missing the first two times and whacking one on the third try.
Jacob peered back towards the station again. Head down, ass up. Stop looking. But something caught his eye near the platform. It was moving fast—too fast for a standard zombie. It was either a person, or…
Terror drove him. He pushed and pulled the handlebar with every ounce of remaining strength. The resistance was enormous—mostly now the feeders attached to the edges, trying in their incompetent way to climb on board. He didn’t think they were capable, but they thwarted the escape, and the thing running towards them from the platform would have no trouble accessing their flesh.
“There’s two of them,” Rebecca said. “The runners. They’re coming fast.”
Two of them. Jacob staggered, as though all the strength had run free. Maybe it was over. Maybe their luck had run out. But they had been so close, so very close to freedom.
He couldn’t let that happen. He snatched the ax from Rebecca’s stagnant hands. “Step back.” Using the flat end of the blade like a thin sledgehammer, Jacob swung the weapon. It struck the first feeder square between the eyes and it fell back, gurgling. Another came for its place and Jacob repeated the action, opening a gash in its head that squirted blood across its comrades. The thing tumbled to the rocky tracks, and this time none replaced it. He belted several more in the head, removing two, and began to get on top of them. He gave the ax back to Rebecca. “Try that.” Jacob took the handlebar again and pumped. The car edged slowly away.
As he pushed and lifted, the things running towards them drew closer. It was going to get messy. Several zombies fell away, unable to keep pace. Once caught an arm on the platform and managed to hang on. Rebecca made a small swing with the ax and clobbered it in the side of the head, but it didn’t fall. Jacob stretched his leg around the center pylon and kicked it in the face. It dropped to the rocks with a crunch.
Invasion of the Dead (Book 3): Escape Page 8