The forty-four gallon drums were all filled and everything of value had been taken from the store. Lewis set up a defensive cordon around the vehicles whilst Williams and Millington calmed the boy down. There was a real buzz amongst the hardened, cynical soldiers, a momentary reprieve from all the futility and anguish. The fact that there was a survivor seemed to fill them all with optimism, if only for a moment. In the depths of their darkest despair, amongst all the traumas and trials, finding a survivor, any survivor but particularly one so fragile and vulnerable, was a real beacon of hope for them all. Neale, Scovell and Vallage shared a cigarette, Wood chatted with Collins as though out on a date in the country and Walkden cracked a joke with Hutchison. Lewis was surprised to find that he was keen to get back to the base in order to show their finding to Squadron Leader Singleton of all people. For the briefest of moments all was well with their small world. Even Straddling was caught with a broad grin, a rarity in such times.
Finally Lewis walked over to the Land Rover, not wanting to alarm their new charge. “Look I hate to rush you but I’m getting nervous. Are you guys ready to go?”
“Sure thing boss,” Millington beamed, his smile bigger than ever. “We’ll be ready in just a mo.”
Lewis noticed that the big man had tears in his eyes. Williams had slowly ascertained that the boy’s name was Josh. He was eight years old and had been hiding in the store for several days since his father had brought him there, although he was unsure as to exactly how long it had been. The reason his father had abandoned him was not clear but Millington suspected he had become ill and wanted to make sure his son was as safe as possible whilst he still had time. Possibly he had hoped that his boy would be found by some looters who were not sick and taken into their custody, which was in effect what had happened.
Throughout their gentle interrogation Josh continually asked in a small voice where his father was and when he would be joining them, which made Williams break down.
“I’m not sure poppet,” she said as her stomach wrenched. “He may be gone a while, I really don’t know. But you are safe with us in the meantime. So why don’t you come with us and maybe we can find your father later?”
The boy nodded with a mixture of heart-breaking sadness and obvious relief at having been found at last. He clung to Williams’s arm and hid his head behind her shoulder. Millington loomed over her other shoulder still beaming and chatting to Josh as though they were old friends.
Lewis came over to them again. “Okay, ready?”
Williams looked at Millington and he nodded. “Yes sir.”
Last on the agenda was a stop at a large supermarket on the outskirts of Bishop’s Stortford. Darby, driving the front car, was filled with the weird sensation that it felt vaguely like a normal day out. As they arrived the scene was quiet, there was no obvious menace and it reminded him of driving with his mates in happier times. Cars really were his passion. He and his friends delighted in tearing around empty car-parks in their pimped-up motors using the lampposts as obstacles. They had spent countless hours parked up together and admiring the engines or body-work of each other’s rides with music pumping out into the night sky. He felt himself slipping into morose reminiscing but a closer inspection as he drove through the car park entrance revealed a different picture and brought him back to the present. A few vehicles were scattered around and it was obvious that they were not all parked neatly. Some had clearly crashed or had just been left randomly in the middle of the car park. Shopping trolleys had been strewn all over the area and the Land Rover had to shunt some out of the way as they approached the glass entrance doors to the store.
Darby perked up as they approached and turned to Lewis beside him. “Reminds me of my youth this does sir.”
“What? An abandoned supermarket?”
“Nah, going to the shops before anyone else was up and doing a few doughnuts in the car park. You don’t mind if I do a few now do you sir?”
“Doughnuts?” Lewis asked.
“You know, hand brake turns, wheel spins, that kinda thing.”
“I don’t think so Darby. Not just now.”
From the back seat Wood rolled his eyes in exasperation and shook his head.
Several of the store’s windows had been smashed. A shopping trolley had been thrown through one and a car driven through another.
As before the three vehicles were positioned ready for a quick exit if needed. Williams stayed with Josh in the car and this time Collins, Scovell and Millington guarded the three vehicles with Straddling on top of the Bedford. Lewis wanted Newman to accompany them into the store in order to gather medical supplies. Wood, Neale, Hutchison and Vallage also went in so that there would be enough troops to split into two sections. They each collected a shopping trolley as they entered. It felt totally surreal to be in a party of soldiers in uniforms, all brandishing weapons but pushing trolleys.
Neale cursed as they went into the shop. “Why do I always get the micking trolley with a dodgy wheel and a mind of its own?”
“Shhh,” Vallage cuffed him round the back of the head and scowled. “Quiet.”
With torches slicing through the dark interior they walked silently amongst the aisles. They tried in vain to avoid stepping on the debris that festooned the floor. They were now not only looking out for diseased, but also for potentially armed and unpredictable survivors. Lewis took Wood and Neale down one aisle, the other three took the next. Lewis first wanted to sweep the shop to check it was clear before becoming embroiled in their task of gathering supplies.
“Keep your eyes open and take no chances,” he whispered. “I don’t want a repeat of whatever the hell happened to Sinna and Rohith.”
There were over a dozen aisles. The first contained an assortment of cheap electrical goods and the store’s own brand of clothes. There was little disturbance in this area and it could have felt normal but for the stale air and sickly-sweet, lingering odour of rotting food coming from somewhere within. Lewis spoke in a hushed voice to the two men by his side.
“Wood, you go first. Neale keep your eyes peeled, don’t let your concentration lapse and keep your finger off your trigger” he said as he pointed to Neale’s hand which already hovered nervously over the trigger. “I don’t want you firing in error.”
Lewis brought up the rear and continuously looked back over his shoulder. Wood moved at a steady, measured pace, sweeping his torch from side to side and up and down in graceful, lazy movements as though he was writing his name with a sparkler at a fairground. The first aisle was clear. They regrouped with the other three and Lewis exchanged a glance with Hutchison who nodded tensely. Lewis pointed to the next row and they proceeded wordlessly.
As they continued, aisle by aisle, they could all hear an odd sound, sort of a wet slapping noise that got louder as they moved through the shop. It stopped occasionally and was interspersed with a faint rustling. The subsequent aisle contained fruit and vegetables and it was here that the odour of decomposing matter was strongest. There were some items that had spilled on the floor and been trodden on, and Neale nearly slipped on the mess, earning him a stern glance from Lewis.
Deeper into the store they were further from natural light and it became reasonably dark, making progress slower and more nerve-wracking. The frozen goods section showed particular signs of disturbance. Blood and raw meat were spread all over the floor. It looked as though animals had been there and eaten through the plastic wrapping. Neale trod very carefully on the slippery surface, keen not to embarrass himself again. The reek here was strong and Lewis wondered how anything could eat the rotting meat when it made him want to retch.
They had worked their way through most of the store when the lapping sound returned and there was a commotion from somewhere indeterminate. Hutchison and his two soldiers froze, not sure where the disturbance had come from. Hutchison looked at Vallage who shrugged so he quickly led them to the end of their lane where Lewis was already waiting. He decided that it was safer not to
separate while they searched the remainder of the store.
They started down the penultimate aisle of biscuits and cereals. In the gloom there were shadows moving towards the far end. Wood, who was still leading the way, held up his hand and they came to an uneasy halt. He waved them all back and they turned and retraced their steps. When they had rounded a corner they stopped.
Lewis leaned close. “What was it?”
“I’m not sure how many, but there were a few diseased down there. Maybe two or three, maybe more, I could only see vague shadows. They were all huddled together, eating something I think.”
“Did they see us?”
“Nope. We could take them out but then I’m not sure if there are others nearby that might be attracted to the noise. Alternatively we could just quietly gather whatever we need from other areas, and maybe get out of here without any trouble.”
“Sounds like you prefer the latter option,” Lewis said.
Wood nodded. “If they’re all happily eating then hopefully they won’t hear us. Even if they do maybe they won’t be interested.”
“Okay. Let’s make it quick then.” Lewis said. It seemed to be intuitively wrong to be continuing, knowing that some infected were only a few meters away, but he too thought at the moment it was probably the better option. “Hutchison - take Vallage and Neale. Get as many tinned and dried goods as you can. Maybe some pasta, rice and cereal, that kind of stuff. We’ll get medical supplies and toiletries and whatever else we can find of use. Five minutes max, then we’re out of here. And stay focussed, don’t let anything sneak up on you. Only one of you gets the items whilst the other two are on guard.”
Hutchison nodded and the three men silently slipped into the dark while Lewis led the other two quickly through the store to the section with medical items. He was still not happy with the plan and hoped he would not shortly be ruing his decision.
As Neale started loading the trolleys Vallage and Hutchison took up defensive positions on either side of him, impatiently standing with weapons and torches facing out like the bodyguards of a reclusive star. Many of the shelves had already been ransacked and goods were spread over the floor. Neale appeared to be having a bad day as a tin slipped from his grasp and clattered as it rolled and rolled. The noise disturbed the silence and they all froze, fearing the worst, but after several seconds there had been no outraged cries from the diseased, only a few aisles away. Vallage tutted furiously at Neale, who avoided his eye contact and continued loading goods with his head down.
When Newman had filled two of the trolleys with toiletries, first aid items, vitamins and other things of use, Wood pointed at the adjoining row. Lewis glanced over and realised that they had forgotten to get any drinking water so he quickly stopped Newman and redirected his efforts. He looked back and Wood seemed to have disappeared. With a puzzled expression he probed the gloom with his torch but there was no sign of him. He had not mentioned splitting up so it seemed quite irregular and bad practice to abandon them for whatever reason without warning.
He hissed into the darkness. “Wood?” But there was no reply.
Is this what happened to Sinna and Rohith? He could not help but wonder anxiously, but he did not want to leave Newman. After a minute a shadow sneaked around the edge of the shelving and Wood slipped up to them. His arms were laden with bottles of brandy which he added to the trolley.
Lewis was puzzled and slightly annoyed, but there was something about Wood’s demeanour that made Lewis hold his tongue, as though he had been doing the most obvious thing and clearly they should have known where he would be. He was becoming more familiar with how Wood operated. He could imagine that the man was used to acting alone and on his own initiative. He doubted that Wood ever did anything when in the combat theatre without careful thought. Instead of admonishing the man he looked quizzically at the brandy.
“Cocktails,” Wood replied with a twinkle in his eye.
Later, thought Lewis. This is not the time to ask. Get everybody to safety now and ask later.
Lewis gave a sharp ‘psst’ and Newman stopped what he was doing. Lewis drew a flat hand across his throat in a guillotine motion, and pointed to the exit. He checked his watch; four minutes although it felt like forty. Long enough and time to go. They had been fortunate so far; best not to try their luck too much.
With the three men pushing a heavily laden trolley each they slowly worked through the rubbish on the floor and made their way back to the light. Every squeak of one of the trolley wheels made Lewis cringe and listen for sounds of onrushing infected. With every step he had to fight the urge to run. The feeling of relief washed over him with some enormity as they approached the exit. Hutchison had obviously had enough as well as they arrived at the same moment.
“Time to go,” Lewis mouthed and ushered them all out. He tapped Wood and Hutchison on the shoulders, pointed to his eyes and then the exit. Hutchison nodded and silently the two men stepped back into the store, watching out for any of the diseased whilst the rest of them loaded up the lorry.
Wood shone his torch into the depths of the supermarket and could make out vague shapes dancing in the shadows. He watched them carefully, silently cursing the slow progress being made loading the supplies onto the lorry.
It was easiest to just put the trolleys directly into the back of the Bedford. Millington hauled them up virtually by himself, with only superficial help. It only took a minute and they were done. Lewis made sure they were all in their vehicles before jumping into his. For a moment he did not speak and found it hard to focus or elucidate a command to his driver. Everything seemed to have gone too smoothly. There was a nagging feeling that they had forgotten something or left someone behind. He had become so used to mishaps, death and bad fortune that for the little shopping spree to have gone entirely according to plan just felt wrong. With all the responsibility for everyone’s lives in the field solely burdening his shoulders he could empathise with Denny and the pressures that he had been under for the previous couple of weeks. It was a reminder to him, both to check up on Denny on his return to Headley Court, and to keep an eye on himself and his own levels of stress.
“Boss?” Darby looked at him with a concerned expression on his face, waiting for instructions.
“Yes, sorry. Let’s get out of here.”
Darby immediately gunned the engine and threw his occupants all off balance as he raced the vehicle away with a screech, leaving rubber tracks on the road and chuckling to himself as he drove.
The convoy did not encounter any more hostiles although they did see a number of diseased scavenging in bins, chasing dogs or just wandering aimlessly in the road. Lewis was thoughtful and spoke out loud as much to himself as to the others in his vehicle. “I wonder if the disease has passed to animals yet.”
Wood turned and watched the dog that had been lying in the middle of the road and just scampered out of the way of the Land Rover in time. “I guess for that to happen, if it’s even possible for the illness to be contracted by animals, one of them would have to be bitten but not actually killed by one of the infected.”
“And that could easily have happened. I wonder if there would be a difference in how they act and whether we would be able to tell a sick animal from a normal one. Perhaps we should start to treat them with caution as well.”
In the second Land Rover Josh was sandwiched between Millington and Williams. He spent the journey torn between looking out of the vehicle and hiding his head behind either of them, both of whom kept chatting to him throughout.
As they passed the road junction with the wreck of vehicles, several large, black ravens took to the air. They had been feasting on the corpses of the dead that the convoy had left behind. Lewis shuddered and turned round to talk to Wood again.
“I think we can add birds to the list of potential carriers, as well as dogs. Maybe they don’t need to actually be bitten; maybe it’s enough for them to just eat contaminated flesh themselves.”
“Well God help
us all if that’s true.” Wood looked out at the crash site with morbid curiosity, examining the bus and ambulance and remembering where the Bedford and two Land Rovers had been parked. He contemplated how they could have made everything safer for themselves whilst away from the protection of the vehicles. Could they have positioned the Land Rovers differently perhaps or set up a more effective defensive cordon? Had he looked more closely he might have noticed a figure sat in the shadows on the roof of a nearby building, dressed in black leather trousers and a lacy, black top. She was quite still and very patient, waiting and watching for her quarry to return. She saw them when they were still distant but made not the slightest movement. In fact had Wood seen her he could have been forgiven for thinking she was nothing more than a rooftop statue. She watched the vehicles pass, enjoying the sounds of the chatter from within and the scent of human flesh, watching them disappear as she stood and climbed carefully down from the roof. She was certain that nobody in the vehicles had seen her and she was quite correct, but had she been more observant herself she might have noticed another even more stealthy pair of eyes watching her as well.
CHAPTER 14
As the convoy approached the gates Lewis could see a few people awaiting their arrival. Flying Officer Oliver Frost, a young trainee helicopter pilot who had been undergoing aeromedical training on the base was on guard. He was hurriedly unlocking the gates as they neared. His rifle was slung clumsily over his back and as he stooped to open the padlock it kept slipping down and striking his hands, knocking the padlock from his grasp and delaying the process. Just behind him and standing outside the guard room were Singleton, Handley and Private Hanson, a tall, skinny, army medic who had been serving on the base for only three months. Senior Aircraftman Masters’s beautiful wife Vida also stood huddled with them, her long, dark hair bouncing and looking immaculate as she jumped from foot to foot impatiently. There was no sign of Denny.
The Blood of the Infected (Book 1): Once Bitten, Twice Die Page 29