Aftermath (Book 2): Chicago Calling

by Duncan McArdle

  “John”, Harvey said, snapping back the attention of the man behind the wheel, “You missed the turn off”.

  “What?”, John asked, a little stunned, “Oh… no, we ain’t wasting our time there”, he said, “I just told Lester that”.

  “I don’t follow”, Harvey said plainly.

  “The supermarket!”, John exclaimed, “I’m not leaving all that stuff we found a second longer than we have to”, he said, “Figure it’ll make for a nice surprise to them all”.

  “Oh”, Harvey replied, his attention now drawn out the rear window of the truck, “I was kind of looking forward to hitting that place”, he said, his trigger finger itching slightly.

  A little further back along the road, right where Harvey was now looking, in amongst the rows of empty jetties and parking areas were a series of small buildings in the middle of the marina. Each of them backed onto the water, the idea being that they were ready to launch the boats that had once upon a time been housed inside, and each was now looking a little worse for wear, much like the jetties nearby.

  More importantly though, the most recent use of the small structures – according to the information spilled by the captured guard known as Brock – was to look after the group’s supplies while they were out and about, including when they were preparing to attack the car-park. Harvey had been excited to raid the enemy’s base, and was quietly hoping he might find some more of their crew, but he understood that the prospect of bringing back the huge haul of goods already found at the supermarket was not something to be sniffed at. Despite that however, when Harvey did turn his attention back to the road ahead, it wasn’t without a look of disappointment.

  “Don’t look so down”, John remarked, noticing his companion’s change of facial expression. “They never tried to radio for help, so we know there’s no people there, and not one of them had anything better than the guns they did a few months back, so I can tell you there ain’t much of value there either”, he explained. “The haul we’re in for at that supermarket is better than anything we could have hoped for in whichever one of those sheds they were holed up in”.

  Harvey didn’t reply, opting instead to exert one of his trademark grunts.

  * * *

  Before long the Nissan was making its way once more along the same roads and past the same houses that the duo had travelled by just a few days prior, and once again John reminded himself that there were still many properties to be raided there. The group had so far only covered around a third of the buildings between the lake and the supermarket, and in such an upmarket neighbourhood, there was still every chance they might finally find a boat here.

  “You really think we can beat this?”, Harvey asked rather bluntly, as a series of familiar sights sailed by to one side.

  “Beat what?”, John replied, “The infection?”.

  Harvey nodded.

  “I’m not really sure”, John began, “But I figure there’s gotta’ be a tipping point, a point where there’s so few of us left that we’re able to properly train everyone, so we all know how to defend ourselves”, John explained, “And I guess when we hit that, our numbers stop going down so fast, and theirs stop going up”.

  “You really think that’ll happen?”, Harvey asked. “You’ve seen how good they are at tracking down sounds and smells, what if they keep grouping together like the other week, targeting everyone whose left as a horde?”.

  John thought about the scenario for a moment. He knew full well that their chance of survival was slim, but then it had been all along, and yet they were still here. The dead outnumbered the living a thousand to one easily, and whilst the idea of taking down a thousand biters by himself didn’t seem like too difficult a task for him in his lifetime, John knew it wasn’t realistic for everyone back at camp to achieve that.

  “Well”, John said eventually, “I guess we just have to try, to keep living… to keep fighting, and see how things play out”.

  “Lucky us”, Harvey said sarcastically.

  Soon such thoughts were put to one side, as the familiar logo of the supermarket came into view up ahead.

  “Well it hasn’t burnt down at least”, Harvey remarked as he too noticed the company’s trademark colours.

  The truck approached and began to slow as more of the store came into view, first the curb side pavement running past it, then what remained of some bruised and battered trees, and finally-.

  “God damn it”, John said.

  The store’s exterior was almost completely blocked from view through a sea of wandering bodies, all of them as rotten as each other, and all intent on getting into the building. Windows had been smashed, cars overturned, and shopping carts had been crumpled and sent rolling off down the street. The power of the undead in such a large group was often incredibly strange, achieving things that when looking at one of them alone, seemed impossible, and this was no exception. Large numbers had managed to breach the many holes in the windows out front, and now the inside of the store looked almost as busy with movement as it had done before the apocalypse.

  “Where in the hell did all this come from!?”, Harvey demanded from nobody in particular.

  “There must be something inside they want”, John replied.

  “And they’d never noticed it these last few months?”, Harvey asked, “Now suddenly, a couple days after we’ve been here, they all turn up?”.

  “Well then it must have been something we left or, something we did or…”, John thought long and hard about the few things they’d done the last time they’d been here, “Something we moved”, he said, as it finally clicked in his head.

  “What?”, Harvey asked, himself not having come to the same conclusion.

  “The body in the truck…”, John began, “It fell out and we left it there, those things can probably smell it or something, must be torn to shreds by now”.

  “But”, Harvey started, “If they’re so interested in where the body is-”.

  “Then they’re going to be going for the trailer”, John cut in, “Shit!”.

  Immediately John put his foot down and began flooring it towards the supermarket, swinging the truck round and into the car-park, knocking into several bodies as it did. But for once John wasn’t interested in being quiet or unseen, because he knew as well as Harvey did that if the undead had gotten into the truck, then all that food, and all that water, was now completely useless. Even a simple swipe of a blood-soaked hand along a can was enough to put most people off, but if they’d been feeding on a body, and then drooled their way into the trailer, spraying bile, mucus and god knows what else all over the supplies, then all of it was a write off.

  Quickly the truck reached the other side of the car-park, and the loading area came into view.

  “Fantastic”, John said sarcastically.

  The rear of the trailer was surrounded by bodies, some having managed to separate their own limbs trying to squeeze through the tiny gaps that presented passage into the loading bay. The body they were all after was just a few metres away, and there was little the undead wouldn’t do when food was on the line.

  Worse still, both men knew they could see movement inside the bay, meaning that the undead had made their way through the store, and were now just inches away from the huge cache of supplies, if of course they hadn’t already breached it. This not only meant that the cargo was at risk, but also that the path through the store would be clogged up with bodies, making for a deadly and near impassable route. Even if the duo had locked the trailer tight enough to repel this many undead, getting to it themselves was going to be almost impossible.

  “What a waste”, John said as he stared at the rear of the trailer, doused in blood from the numerous bodies still trying to squirm their way through the tiny gaps around it.

  “Ain’t a waste unless we let it become one”, Harvey said, clambering out from the truck.

  “You’re kidding right?”, John asked.

  “C’mon John, big open space like this”,
Harvey began, “Slow moving horde, no runners from what I can see, and we’re well armed”.

  “You really think that’s a good idea?”, John questioned.

  “No”, Harvey said, withdrawing his pistol, cocking back the slider and then holstering it once more, “But it’s the only one I’ve got”.

  John looked over to his fellow guard, gauging whether or not he was for real. Then he looked outside of the truck, to the thirty or forty bodies pressed up against the entrance to the store, and then to the ten or fifteen surrounding the trailer, and the god-only-knows how many of them that were left inside. The numbers weren’t in their favour, but John knew as well as anybody, that if they didn’t deal with them now, in this big, open space, they’d only have to deal with them later.

  “Alright”, he eventually said, opening his door and climbing out, withdrawing his blade with one hand whilst closing the door with the other.

  Both Harvey and John set their eyes on the smaller group by the trailer first, knowing that it was a more time critical area of the operation, if they had even the slightest chance of saving the supplies. The rear of the trailer was coated in scratches, some of them appearing to have taken large chunks out of the vehicle, as well as the wall of the building the trailer was propped against. These particular undead really were desperate to get to the body.

  “Ready?”, John asked as he walked alongside Harvey.

  “Ready”, Harvey confirmed.

  * * *

  Not far from the location of the supermarket, well along the road John and Harvey had approached via, an object stirred in the distance. Slowly but surely it crept into view, and before long it was obvious that a car was approaching, albeit slowly and in an incredibly cautious manner, as if trying as hard as possible to approach without being seen.

  Inside the vehicle, the driver had their eyes trained on the road ahead, though they occasionally looked to the left and right, making sure nothing moved in the buildings alongside. The driver was feverish, their fingers regularly coiling and uncoiling around the wheel as they nervously crawled forwards, occasionally flicking a little harder on the accelerator, before reducing pressure and slowing back down.

  Soon enough, their eyes finally caught sight of something up ahead, a yellow and blue supermarket logo sticking out in the otherwise dreary, greying landscape, and a smile slowly spread across their face.

  Chapter 30: Clearance

  A quick count of the figures in front revealed a total of twelve bodies that had to be dealt with, a number John knew was a walk in the park for them.

  “Six each”, he said, to which Harvey nodded.

  John went in first, blade at the ready, pistol just a moment’s notice away. First off he drew out the more energetic looking of his six, luring them towards him and using their own momentum to drive the blade deep into their skulls, quickly taking down two bodies in a matter of seconds. Off to his right, Harvey did much the same, himself also bringing down a fast approaching duet of moans and aggressive advances.

  Next John moved on to his third target, a large woman who had somehow managed to make the transition from living to dead without dropping her handbag, its leather straps still draped around her as if so valuable she couldn’t bear to part herself from it. Just as John arrived, the woman lunged, and thinking quickly he took a step to one side and allowed her to move past him, before he grabbed the strap of her bag and pulled her back towards him. Using a combination of his own energy and the momentum of the woman’s body, John quickly dispatched the larger lady, before turning just in time to see another similarly built man approach.

  John flicked his grip of the blade around so that it pointed upwards, and then rammed hard through the bottom of the man’s jaw, embedding the steel deep into the centre of his brain. The man had only been a second or so from becoming a real problem for John, and so sensing that he might perhaps be getting too cocky, he waited for a moment between dropping his most recent attacker, and moving on to the next, to allow himself time to find composure, and to plan ahead.

  Harvey meanwhile had no such reservation. Having just taken care of his own target, he moved quickly forwards and began rapidly flicking between bodies, lunging at each with a fast stabbing motion before switching to the next, not even checking that the previous one had fallen. Just as John found himself dropping down his fifth allocated kill, he realised that no more remained, and that Harvey was stood by a small pile of bodies looking incredibly proud of himself, now wiping his hair back into position.

  “How many?”, John asked.

  “Not sure”, Harvey panted, before doing a spin on the spot to look at his success, and then turning back to face John, “All of them”, he laughed, shrugging off the situation.

  “Calm it would you?”, John asked, “We’ve got time, we don’t need to take risks here”, he said.

  “I’m not taking any risks”, Harvey said stubbornly, before walking away from the bodies and in the direction of the storefront.

  John followed close behind, knowing he could only try to control Harvey so much, especially at times like this. Harvey had left the camp that day hoping for blood, and John could see the adrenaline near dripping off of him in every one of his movements. This was not a man who was likely to respond to criticism or instruction, so John knew his only real option was to try and look out for him as best he could.

  John tried once again to count the numbers in front, but now found it to be a much more difficult task. The bodies were moving, albeit slowly, and each of them was sporting that same generic grey-black colour that meant they all blended together as one disgusting mess. After a few failed attempts, John tried instead to simply partition up the work, and quickly decided to move himself to the right, where the numbers were slightly higher.

  Harvey meanwhile positioned himself more centrally, much to John’s dismay. His cock-sure attitude meant that rather than see thirty or forty risks to his life out in front, he’d simply seen thirty or forty kills, and he wanted to get as many of them as he could. Quickly he moved to the nearest one, subduing it with a well-placed blade to the head – which, having noticed it was a particularly well-rotten being, he quickly withdrew and replaced just to be sure – and then continued on to the next.

  Back to the right, John had found himself in amongst a group of younger undead, a group of skaters judging by their apparel. This had the advantage of meaning they were weaker and in most cases smaller than him, but also presented an interesting challenge; helmets. Two members of the group had managed to keep their protective headwear well attached, and this meant his first attack on each resulted in the blade simply glancing off of the hardened shells.

  Knowing he had to at least reduce the numbers, John set about taking care of the less-armoured members of the group. Quickly he began dropping them one by one, stepping backwards repeatedly in order to counter their slow advances, moving in a way that from the outside looking may have appeared akin to some kind of dance routine. Soon enough, he turned to face the first of the helmet-adorning duo, and sized up his opponent.

  The boy in front was probably no older than sixteen, but was tall enough to mean age wasn’t much of a factor. Upon completing a scan for weaknesses, John opted for a particular part of the head uncovered by the helmet, just below the right-hand temple, right amongst the various straps. Taking aim and working momentarily to match the figure’s movements, John swung wide and then pulled in, hitting almost exactly the spot he’d anticipated, and piercing straight through the side of the head.

  The figure began dropping to the ground, but before John let it complete its journey, he unlatched the strap under the bloodied chin of the body, and removed the helmet. Quickly he wrapped the various straps around his free hand, and then proceeded to do more or less exactly the same kill on the second skater. By the time that next individual had dropped to the floor, John found himself now with two helmets, one of which he promptly slid across the ground towards Harvey.

  Hearing the item make i
ts way towards him, Harvey backed away from the nearest of the undead to retrieve the helmet. Things were building up around him, and in fact, no sooner had he wrapped it around his arm, than a particularly energetic beast came flying towards him, smacking its head on the plastic armour in a move that probably would have ended much worse had the item not been there. Harvey gave a nod of thanks to John before finishing off the stunned biter that now lay on the ground in front, and then looked to the next one.

  This brutal routine continued for some time, with the two men regularly dropping body after body with little regard to the world around them. Noting this early on however, John made a conscious effort to make sure no other threats had presented themselves from time to time, though so far the area outside of the massacre seemed quiet. Conditions for this culling appeared to be remaining perfect.

  Soon enough, the numbers in front had dwindled down into the sub-ten range, topped up a few times by more emerging bodies from inside the store, but reducing away nevertheless. The pile around the men was growing at a rapid rate, leaving an almighty stench and a truly awful sight which John regularly found himself shying away from, but even this did little to dampen morale.

  “Let’s finish these off together”, John said eventually, spotting that the final few had worked their way into a reasonably tight-knit group.

  “Why, this is working!”, Harvey replied dismissively, his blade embedding itself into another cranium as he spoke.

  “These don’t look like they’re going down easy”, John pointed out, noting the large size and decaying state of the few remaining figures.

  “Grow a pair Parker”, Harvey replied, before flinging himself into the midst of the biters.

  Immediately John tried to follow after Harvey into the centre of the gathering, but it was no use, the group’s position and shape was shifting, and before long John found himself on the opposite side of the miniature horde.

  “Regroup!”, he yelled to the other side, where he could just about make out the outline of Harvey as he attacked a man much larger than himself. “REGROUP!”, John yelled again, to no response.