“True that.” Josh agreed with his brother’s sound logic. “Hold on!” he yelled.
Crunching the gears he released the clutch and sent them lurching forward, veering to the right. With a loud roar the truck gathered speed quickly, motoring back towards the compound.
Olivia shivered under the covers. Pulled the blankets up to her neck, snuggled in for a while longer just to stay warm. It was barely light and outside the weather had changed, the rain was now long gone, but a chill still hung in the air that morning. Despite her optimism that the day would indeed be glorious, she was in no hurry to get up just yet.
Waking alone in her bed was something she was used to now. Jon was an early riser, often making a start on odd jobs or projects long before anyone else was awake, pressing bullets in the ammunition press, checking the perimeter alarm, feeding the animals, or stocktaking. He was a tough, hard-working, stubborn individual but she loved these qualities in him. Hated them just as much too.
A while later, as the morning light began to peek through the bedroom window she finally rose. Stretched, washed, dressed, and made the bed. She was such a dutiful wife, subscribing to old-school values – this house was her domain and she kept it clean, tidy and orderly. Even more so after the world turned.
As she walked to the door she glanced at the note which Jon had pinned to the wall, it stopped her dead in her tracks. She had a gut feeling that today was going to be different. Hunches, in her experience were nothing but trouble.
Jon’s simple note read: Gone to find the boys. Took Colin. Be back for lunch. Stay safe. Love Jon. Xx
Olivia sighed heavily. Shook her head at his expectation of being home for lunch and knew in her heart that they would not be home that soon.
Making her way to the kitchen she set about making herself something to eat. Turned on the gas, watched the flame on the stove burn for a few seconds as her mind drifted off miles away. As she tucked into her breakfast she thought about where Jon might be in the city. Whilst saving the world and everyone in it was his thing, worrying was hers and she did it better than most.
“Are you ok mum?” asked Rebecca, as she walked into the room. Slouched in a chair at the dining room table her mother looked a little distressed, lost in deep thought. Wrapping her arms around her, Rebecca gave a comforting embrace.
Olivia sighed. “I… I’m fine,” she replied. Her words lacked conviction. “Coffee?” she offered, standing and smiling at her daughter.
“Yeah mum, ta.”
Rebecca followed her mother into the kitchen and chatted to her as the French press coffee plunger brewed a perfect cuppa. The aroma of freshly made caffeine quickly filled the house.
“Thank goodness for the gas cylinders,” said Olivia, in an attempt to deflect her daughter’s questioning. She failed miserably.
Rebecca generally knew what triggered her mother’s worry and her down moods, confident this time too that she was yet again right on the money. “Did Dad go out?” she asked.
“Yes, he and Colin headed out a few hours ago at first light.” Olivia added milk powder and sugar to the brew and passed a mug to her daughter, switched off the gas and started to fuss and tidy up.
Rebecca sat down at the table, leaned forward and took a sip. It was an acquired taste, one she was now used to. Nothing at all tasted the same in the new world, but they had to make do. Still, she longed for fresh milk with her morning cuppa.
Olivia swallowed hard. “I hope they are all ok,” she said, staring at her hot drink.
“My bed was empty when I woke up this morning as well mum. Eric and the others are still out there too, something must have happened to slow them down. Rather than drive home in the dark they probably found a safe place to park up and slept in the truck for the night. Dad will find them and they will all be home soon, safe and sound.”
Both the Armstrong women were logical thinkers. Olivia agreed entirely with what Rebecca had said, for it made total sense. Still, there was this nagging doubt that both mother and daughter also shared equally, they sat in silence sipping, thinking and worrying.
Through tight lips Jon forced out a long, slow sigh. “Nice work back there mate.”
Colin gave him a mock salute. “Gotcha back always boss,” he said, raising his eyebrows in response. “You know that.”
Jon nodded in appreciation. Rubbing his forehead he glanced around, scanned the surrounding landscape where nothing stirred. For a long moment silence reigned on the streets in their immediate vicinity. They appeared to be alone.
A warmness settled over the city as the morning sun began to beat down for the day. The air was still fresh, with a slight bite to it. Despite this, a bead of sweat had formed on the tip of Colin’s rather flat nose and just hung there, he had over-exerted himself fleeing from the restaurant and from the long ride. The fat butcher puffed hard.
The two men cycled on in silence passing a myriad of empty shops and businesses. They had brushed off their earlier encounter and gotten themselves back on track, proceeding along the route they believed the others would have, should have taken. This time however, they were much more alert, having already been caught out once today, proceeding with the utmost caution.
Their major concern was that the gunfire might have roused other creatures nearby, so each corner and every bend was taken slowly with a wide arc.
They were on their toes peering into doorways, staring through windows, glancing down alleyways. The next part of their journey proved uneventful, danger had eluded them.
Until now.
8
Darkest Hour
Tyler removed his glasses and began to clean the lenses on his shirt sleeve. Replacing them he refocused his eyes on the road ahead. It had been a nervous few minutes since leaving the bar, everyone was on edge as no-one really knew what they were looking for. They just hoped for the best.
Chopping down a gear Josh swerved to the right, narrowly missing an abandoned Volkswagen Polo. Thick black smoke billowed from the stack behind the cab reducing visibility at the rear to zero. Loose chains in the compactor collided with the steel walls rattling and clanging loudly, water splashed high in the air as the heavy tires collided with potholes now full after the heavy overnight rain.
Sandwiched between the Armstrong boys in the front Siobhan bounced in her seat. She was ecstatic to finally be free of the 4Horsemen Bar & Grill, sporting a grin from ear to ear. “So,” she said, pointing up to the roof, “what’s the deal here?” The others knew immediately whom she was referring to.
Tyler jumped in first boots and all, he just couldn’t help himself. “He’s a bloody idiot! A complete and utter tool!” There was hatred and venom in is voice which was evident to everyone when he spoke.
“Woah bro... just chill man,” Josh said, calmly. “Take it easy.” He was used to keeping the peace between Tyler and Eric, but it was never an easy task. He found it quite draining at times.
“Oh come on Josh, you bloody-well know he is an idiot!”
Straightening the steering wheel, Josh rolled his eyes.
“Well, I take it that you two don’t get on at all then,” Siobhan said, winking.
Punching a fist into his palm, Tyler let loose. “He’s nothing but a piece of shit! I hate his fucking guts so much!”
“Well,” Siobhan said, cracking a broad smile, “that’s pretty definitive then isn’t it.”
“I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do,” he added, clenching his fist tighter. “Fuck! I just can’t stand the prick!”
“Well, he’s not the warmest of characters is he?”
“Hmmmmph...” Tyler chewed his lip. Josh did the same. It was a distinctive trait the Armstrong men shared.
They drove on in silence until a sudden banging on the roof alerted them that something was up. Josh wound down the driver’s window, poked his head out to investigate.
“Up ahead,” came a voice from the roof, Eric’s voice. He had again positioned himself atop the cab, primarily to p
rovide sniper cover and to act as a lookout. He welcomed the fresh air on his face, it helped with his hangover. “To the left,” he paused, “trouble.”
Air brakes hissed as the truck slowed.
As they drew near they spied two pushbikes laying on the side of the road, which both Josh and Tyler recognized immediately as their own.
They had been given these bicycles by their parents when they were teenagers, riding them to and from school for years. Since then they had hung on racks in the shed gathering dust and rust, only recently seeing use again when Jon decided to use them to scout the neighborhood. The pushbikes were unmistakably theirs which caused both the Armstrong boys to now fear for their father’s safety.
Glass from the shattered front window of the bookstore lay scattered across the sidewalk. A large piece of the window hung precariously from its frame, wobbling in the breeze it looked set to fall at any second. Part of a large white hand painted hashtag was still clearly visible on the glass.
Tensions were high as those in the truck drew near. Something sinister had happened here and by the look of things they had only just missed the action. Grabbing their weapons four of the five leapt from the truck. Armed with a semi-automatic rifle Josh made a mad dash for one side of the entrance of the bookstore, where he signaled for the others to fall in behind.
Eric dropped to a knee on the roof, took a bead on the doorway. Panned slightly left and through the sight he saw Josh, who had propped himself against the doorframe. Siobhan stood beside him, sword drawn poised and ready. Next in line was Stuart, crouching low, his fingers massaging the handle of his axe. The crosshairs then moved over the face of the redhead lad. Tyler finally stood in his sights, hatchets in hand. Eric felt his finger twitch on the trigger.
“Bang!” Eric whispered to himself.
Josh placed his head closer to the opening, careful not to expose himself. “Dad!” he whispered loudly.
There was a long pause.
Silence.
“Dad!” he whispered again.
A low moan followed causing those outside to shiver in fear.
Most new world survivors including the Armstrong’s were very familiar with these murmuring sounds. They immediately associated any such moaning with the slow-moving creatures they now co-habituated the planet with. These creatures had once been high-paid executives, lawyers, school teachers, office workers, construction workers and bus drivers who had all previously lived ordinary lives, as ordinary people, doing ordinary things. All their life they had worked hard striving for their big break, that one life-changing event that would transform them and give their existence meaning. The irony of all this was that when that big event finally arrived and their lives were transformed forever, they were completely oblivious of it all.
At that very moment when they turned into lifeless savages, they immediately lost touch with everything that was human. Their lives were instantly simplified. Morning commutes and traffic jams were of no concern to them any longer, there were no more financial headaches to contend with, no more shopping queues, no more deadlines, no more stress. Those who had been turned now simply roamed the wastelands of the dead city in search of food. They had become killing machines oblivious to every care that once troubled them.
Something moved inside the bookstore. Those outside heard it quite clearly.
More sounds.
Hearts beat faster.
Listening intently Josh was convinced that the sound coming from inside the bookstore was actually more of a groan, there was nothing ominous about it whatsoever. The only distinctive noise the undead made was a low monotonous moan. This sound was not a moan.
“Dad! Are you ok?” There was a degree of concern in his voice.
More movement.
More groaning.
Josh cautiously stepped foot inside the bookstore, barrel first. Not for a moment did he think of the danger, his thoughts were preoccupied with his father and saving him. The others followed him in walking closely behind. In every direction they looked books and magazines were strewn everywhere, most bookshelves were overturned leaning on one another in a domino effect. At first glance one would have been forgiven for thinking a bomb had gone off. A dry, musty stench hung inside the store.
Another groan came from behind the counter in the middle of the room. Quickly the group fanned out and inched their way cautiously towards the source of the sound.
Suddenly, Tyler dropped his weapons and ran forward, catching everyone off-guard. “Dad!” he yelled.
Behind the counter Jon lay in a crumpled heap, his shirt was blood stained having turned a dark red color on his right side. It was obvious to everyone that he was badly wounded. Beside him lay Colin, limp and unconscious.
“Oh my God! Dad! What happened?”
Trying with all his might to speak, all Jon could manage was an incoherent, agonizing groan.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” said Josh, kneeling over his father.
“Has he been bitten?” Siobhan asked, matter-of-factly.
Tyler spun his head around and frowned. The very thought made him see red.
“It’s ok,” said Josh. “It’s a fair question.” Nodded to his brother. “Stuart, can you check Colin out while I have a look at dad?”
Lifting up Jon’s shirt, Josh examined the wound, scanned for bite marks. Blood was seeping from a small hole just below his right shoulder.
“Has he been bitten?” Siobhan asked again.
“No!”
“Are you positive?” Siobhan pressed, “We have to be sure.” Experience had taught her not to take any chances when it came to this horrid, life-changing event.
“I’m positive. Please drop it.” Josh applied pressure to the wound. “It... it looks like a bullet wound,” he said, scarcely believing it himself. “He’s been shot.”
“What the fuck!” yelped Tyler.
“How’s Colin?”
“He’s alive,” said Stuart, who had been examining the butcher. “No bite marks… no bullet holes... no blood. I think he’s just been knocked out.”
Josh fished around with his left hand, searching for the bag of medical supplies he knew that should be under the counter. Found nothing. Puzzled, he said, “Everything’s gone. What the hell happened here?”
Suddenly, a gunshot rang out from just beyond the front entrance. Another followed moments later, then another.
“We’ve got company!” yelled Eric from the truck.
More gunshots followed, in quick succession.
“Siobhan, can you check it out,” Josh asked, desperately. “I need to stabilize dad’s wound before we can go anywhere.”
“Sure thing,” came her prompt reply. She was gone in a flash.
“Stuart, do you think you can get Colin to the truck?”
“Shit! I’ll try. He’s a pretty big unit you know.”
Just then Colin grunted. Groaned.
“Hold up. I think he’s coming around.”
More gunshots.
“Undead!” yelled Siobhan. “About twenty, maybe more. We have to move guys.”
Colin slowly sat up. “What the... ahhhh... my head,” he said, slowly rubbing his neck.
“Take it easy,” said Stuart. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah... I guess.”
“Come on then.” Stuart struggled, eventually managing to get Colin to his feet.
“How is Jon?”
“He’s doing ok. Let’s go, we have to get out of here.”
“Hurry the fuck up!” yelled Eric, urgency in his voice.
Josh turned to his brother. “I think I’ve stopped the bleeding. We have to get him home as fast as we can.”
“Then let’s do it!”
Siobhan sheathed her mighty sword and went to help Stuart, who was struggling with Colin’s weight. Together they staggered to the door.
Moments later they were all on board. Siobhan joined Eric and Stuart on the roof, making room for the casualties in the cab. Josh crunched the g
ears and headed straight for the incoming creatures, sounding the horn as they made contact. Bodies fell like skittles, flying off in all directions. Heavy tires finished off those unlucky enough to have rolled underneath the truck. Josh then floored it for home.
High clouds drifted on upper winds. The afternoon sun shone brightly, bathing the compound in warmth. Leaves rustled in a gentle breeze, sending them scurrying across the back decking onto the ever growing pile of compost in the empty swimming pool.
Josh lurched awake. He had fallen asleep, dozing off in the sun for a moment allowing exhaustion to take him. Leaning forward in his chair, he stretched and yawned. The porch was empty as was the intersection beyond.
“A bit tired are we?”
Startled, Josh sat up quickly. A little too quickly and got the head spins. He turned to see Siobhan’s head poking through the open lounge room window beside him. She had literally caught him napping and sported a huge grin to greet him.
“How’s your dad doing?” she asked, sounding genuinely caring.
“Umm...,” Josh was struggling for words. “Last update he was doing ok.”
“That’s good then.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone in there.”
“I’m all good. Zoe has been keeping me company, she’s nice, friendly and everything. Why don’t you come in and join us?”
Josh was on his feet and bounding inside in a flash. He did not need a second invitation to spend time with his Warrior Princess.
Rebecca emerged from the master bedroom carrying a bowl of bloodstained water. She placed it on the kitchen bench, picked up a clean bowl and fresh bandages before returning quickly to the bedroom and closing the door behind her. She made no eye contact with anyone and didn’t utter a word.
She was too quick, even for Tyler who had been waiting for an update on his father’s condition. By the time he had made it to the door it was abruptly closed in his face. Desperate for news he had been pacing the hallway ever since they had returned and was wearing out the carpet. All he knew was that Jon’s injury was not life threatening, which came as some relief.
Dark of Dawn 4Horsemen: Book one in the Dark of Dawn Series Page 10