I look up to see Sally and Lex hitting another one and Claire going for the last one. Sam has his back to us and is aiming the shotgun at the two coming his way.
“Don’t shoot,” I shout.
He turns towards me and looks confused.
“You’ll draw more of them.”
He nods in understanding and pulls the knife from his belt. He carefully places the shotgun on the floor and then runs towards the two zombies. I sprint after him. The two infected are too close for him to take on alone. I get there as he plunges the knife into the eye of one of them. The eyeball explodes.
A mixture of pus, blood and a black fluid squirts out, catching Sam on the shoulder. The zombie goes limp, Sam still holding the knife is dragged down with it, landing on top of the thing. The next zombie lunges forwards and crashes into Sam’s back. The rucksack offers Sam some protection, and I smash the table leg across the side of the thing’s heads as it bites down at the bag.
The force of the impact knocks the zombie’s face towards Sam’s shoulder, I quickly hit it again, this time killing it.
Sam groans and tries to move, but is pinned down by the dead body on top of him. I use the table leg to push the zombie off, then hold out a hand to pull him up.
“Cheers,” he said, shaking.
“Did you get bitten?” I ask him, forcing him around so I can look at his back. He is covered in blood and the remnants of zombie eye, but I can’t see any bite marks. I note a small tear in the rucksack and say a silent prayer of thanks that he was wearing it.
Looking around, there are at least a dozen more zombies heading our way. “Come on,” I say, “We need to get out of here.”
Still dazed, Sam nods. Together we jog towards the entrance where the girls are waiting. Like Sam, they are covered in blood. I look down at myself. Disgusting. Blood coats my arms and hands. Infected blood. Shit.
“Wait here,” I say.
I sprint back past the check-in desks and enter Boots. I quickly find the antiseptic hand wipes next to the tissues and grab a few packets. Turning to leave the shop I spot tampons in the next aisle. I grab a couple of boxes, better safe than sorry. My hands are laden with goods. If I get attacked now, I’m screwed. I need something to carry this in. I look around. The cash desk is at the back of the shop, but there are baskets at the front. I pause, undecided for a second, then run to the entrance and drop everything into a basket. Pausing again, I consider the opportunity. I go back into the shop and head to the pharmacy section. I throw various drugs, bandages, plasters and alcohol wipes into the basket. What else should I get?
The scream from one of the girls makes me jump. I’m taking too long. With the basket in one hand and the table leg in the other.
I run back out of the shop and see, Sam, Claire and Lex, pulling one of those things off Sally. The zombie has her gripped tightly in its gnarly hands. I can see that she is pulling back from it and managing to avoid its mouth clamping down on her. Why aren’t the three of them hitting it? I wonder then realise the answer immediately. It’s too close, they would hit Sally too.
“Knives,” I yell.
Sam reaches one hand down for his, but it is still embedded in the eye of a dead zombie. Lex and Claire didn’t react to my shouting, either because they didn’t hear me or they are afraid to let go of the thing trying to bite Sally.
Shit. More zombies are heading their way. Too many, we can’t take on that many between us. I sprint over, dropping the basket which spills its contents to the floor, and grab my own knife. I stab it hard in the ear of the thing and let go as it drops to the floor.
“You okay?” I ask Sally, who nods back dumbly. “Claire, Lex, grab that basket and the stuff off the floor.”
I lean over the fallen zombie and pull the knife. It’s stuck. Using my foot on its neck to brace myself, I give it another yank and it comes free. It’s covered in blood and brain matter. I wipe it on the zombie’s sweater, leaving a bloody mark on the grey material.
The other zombies are getting closer.
“Right, let's go,” I turn to run before I even finish the sentence. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my car is where I left it. Shit. Where are the keys? I rummage around in my pockets until I find them and click the button to unlock the doors. There are five of us, and it’s only a small car. It’s going to be cramped.
I open the door and get in. Sam runs around to the other side and gets in the passenger seat, leaving the three girls to squash in the back. Lex is still holding the Boots shopping basket. I jump out of the car again, and take it off her and put it in the boot. Sam still has my rucksack, and the girls still have the table legs. All of it taking up valuable space, but I want the bag and the weapons close to hand.
The zombies from the check-in area have followed us and are slowly approaching the car. I put the key in the ignition, ready to drive away. Before I do, I take one of the antiseptic wipes and quickly clean the gore off my hands and arms. As soon as I’ve finished, I start the car and drive away.
“I wonder what happened to those other people," Lex muses.
“The ones from yesterday?” Claire asks.
“Yeah,” Lex nods. “They might have been idiots, but I hope they got out in time.”
“Well, did anyone see a one-legged zombie?” Sam quips and I glare at him. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“You okay Sal?” I ask; her reflection in the rear-view mirror is pale, and she looks shaken.
“I’m fine,” she nods, “I know they used to be people… those things… but, did anyone else think that was kind of awesome?” she adds.
The car fills with noise as they all begin to talk at once, sharing their experiences. I know exactly what Sally means. I didn’t enjoy killing them. I don’t think the others did either, but, adrenaline still courses through our bodies. We are safe in the car. We won. It's a heady feeling. I have never felt so alive. It’s like when I go on a roller coaster.
The anxiety builds during the queueing to the point where I feel sick. The ride itself is over in a blur and then afterwards I get loud and excitable and want to go again.
It’s like that, only ten times more intense. I know that I’m unlikely to die on a roller coaster, but back there, we were fighting for our lives.
I bring myself back to the present as I hear Sam say my name.
“What was that?” I ask.
“I was just telling the others how you saved my life,” he says grinning.
“I didn’t … not really, it was the rucksack. If you hadn’t been wearing that, he would have got you for sure." I protest.
“You killed him … you could have just left me there.” Sam says.
I’m uncomfortable with the praise, not least because less than an hour ago I had purposefully set Sam at the back of the group to protect the rest of us. When I’m nervous or uncomfortable, I turn to humour. Which would be a much better defensive mechanism if I was actually funny.
“Next time I will leave you if you take on two on your own,” I say, forgetting to smile so show that it was supposed to be a joke.
“Oh er, right,” Sam says, and now he is uncomfortable.
“It’s a joke,” I say and plaster a mad grin on my face.
Sam looks even more uncomfortable now. I’m sure he’s wondering who the crazy lady is, and remembering back to when he was younger and the stark warnings about not to get in strangers’ cars.
The three girls are snickering in the back of the car as they watch Sam and me in the front seat, Sam edging slightly away from me, and the stupid smile still on my face.
“Right, erm,” I cough. “Any suggestions on where to go?”
“Follow the signs for the airport parking,” Lex suggests. "Bound to be a valet parking in one of the multi-stories.”
I nod and slow down, looking for signs. The long-stay parking is coming up on my right. I flick the indicator on and follow the signs. Why did I use the indicator? Idiot.
It’s dark inside the multi-storey car pa
rk, and my headlights automatically come on. There’s movement in the shadows. Must be more zombies. Surely survivors wouldn’t hang around a car park.
“Try the top floor,” Lex suggests
I nod and navigate my way to the top. Lex was right. There’s an office marked with the words “Private” and “Valet”.
“That must be it,” Sam says.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I reply, sarcastically.
I pull my car into one of the empty spaces. Unload everything now or wait until we’ve got a car?
Wait, I decide. That way if something goes wrong we can just jump back in my car. We won’t get far on the petrol I have left, but hopefully, there would be enough to get us out of immediate danger.
“Sam, come with me and bring the rucksack,” I order. I don’t know what it is about him, but for some reason, I just keep being either mean or bossy when I speak to him. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. As instructed, he gets out of the car and picks up the rucksack. He brings the shotgun with him too. Good idea, I think, but don’t say out loud.
We walk over to the door, and I turn the handle. As I expected, it’s locked. You don’t just leave a door to a room that is, hopefully, full of car keys, unlocked.
“Can you get the hammer and chisel out of the bag, please?” I say, trying to be civil.
He does, and hands them to me. He stands with his back to me, holding the shotgun in both hands, ready to shoot at anything coming up the ramp.
Another good idea.
“Um, good idea Sam,” I say. He’s trying, he might be a bit of a prick, but he does have some sense, I guess.
I wedge the chisel in between the door and the frame and use the hammer to hit the chisel handle. The wood starts to splinter. I shift my aim from the top of the chisel handle to the side and hit it again. This time there is a crack, and I knock a big chunk of wood out of the frame. I readjust the chisel, so it’s angled towards the lock rather than the frame. I give it a good solid whack and the lock breaks, leaving the door to swing open.
Stepping inside the room, I’m relieved to see rows of car keys, with neatly labelled tags showing the corresponding registration number. Okay, so what car? I step back outside and look around. There are a lot of good cars here. Something bigger that we can all fit in comfortably.
“Should we take two cars?” I ask Sam, who is still holding his position, watching the ramp.
He considers the options for a few seconds. “I dunno. It would be good to stay together, but it might be sensible to split up. That way, if one car gets in trouble the other can help out. Also, if something happens to one, like it runs out of petrol or summat, then we have a back- up plan.”
“Yeah,” I agree, “that’s what I was thinking.” It wasn’t what I was thinking at all, I was just wondering if it might be more comfortable, but Sam doesn’t need to know that. “Which ones?”
He takes a quick look around, before looking back to the ramp. “Four by fours,” he says. “Easier to get over any obstacles. Plus, higher up on the road so we can see more.”
“Blimey Sam, just how many zombie apocalypses have you been in?” I joke.
“What?” he says, clearly confused and trying to find the insult in my words.
“Keeping a look out at the point of access, thinking of contingencies, choosing sensible cars. It’s like you’ve done this before.”
“Er … no …” he says nervously. Like I’m accusing him of something.
“Relax,” I say and smile to show that I am being genuine. “I’m complimenting you.”
“Oh,” he says, and a little tension leaves his body. “That’s why I was confused. I didn’t know you knew how to complement people,” he adds with a cheeky grin.
I laugh as we walk out to the cars, choosing two larger models and memorising the number plates. Back in the office I find the right keys and take them off the rack. I give one set to Sam.
“Here you go, you take Sally, and I’ll take Claire and Lex.”
“Why Sally?” he asks, the nervousness back in his voice.
I’m confused by the tone, and I guess he has worked out that I’m protective of her. Does he think I’m trying to set him up, so he does something that will piss me off and give me a reason to kick him out of our group? “That way we have two cars with at least one person that knows the way in each car,” I explain.
“Ah okay,” Sam says, then nods, “makes sense.”
“Let’s load up and head out. I’ll take the lead.” I say, Sam grunts in agreement.
It only takes a few minutes to move the contents and the passengers from my car to the other two. I climb aboard the shiny silver Audi Q5 with Lex in the passenger seat and Claire in the rear. Sam gets into a white Honda CR-V, and Sally holds the shotgun next to him in the passenger’s seat.
I strap my seatbelt on and take a last look at my little car, before driving off down the ramp, Sam following slowly behind me.
“Chloe...?” Lex asks then pauses.
“Yeah,”
“I want… I mean… I need to know.” she stammers.
“Know what?” I ask, concerned. Lex is usually very articulate, and it’s not like her to struggle over her words.
“My parents…” I glance at her and see a single tear rolling down her face.
“Okay, honey,” I say soothingly, “let’s take you home, where do you live?”
“Botley,” she replied, wiping the tear from her face.
Oh, shit. Botley was right on the outskirts of Oxford. Going there is probably a really bad idea, I bet the place is overrun.
“Okay,” I say, because there is nothing else I can say.
Twenty
The steady rumble of engines disturbed the peacefulness of the outside world. Sally sat quietly next to Sam and surveyed the scenes out of the windows. It had got much worse since the day before.
“It’s bad out here,” she said to Sam, “much worse than yesterday.”
“It is,” he said, “bad I mean. Obviously, I wasn’t out here yesterday, but shit, look at that …” he points at a car, upturned and on fire on the side of the road. A blackened and charred body hung halfway out of the passenger window.
They drove in silence, following the route Chloe was taking, weaving around the debris that lay strewn on the roads. Coming up to a lay-by, Sam saw that Chloe was indicating left. Puzzled, he followed her in, and came to a stop behind her.
Chloe got out of her car and jogged over to Sam. He wound the window down, an uneasy feeling washing over him as he saw the worry on Chloe’s face.
“What’s up?” he asked. He kept one hand flopped over the steering wheel, his casual pose belying the tight knot in his stomach.
“Change of plan, we’re going to Botley to get Lex’s parents.”
There was a small intake of breath from Sally in the passenger seat, “Is that a good idea?” she asked.
“Probably not,” Chloe admitted, “It’s so close to Oxford, it’s bound to be overrun … but …” she paused, flicking her hair off her face. “She needs to know that they are okay.”
“Do you think they are?” asked Sally, leaning further over Sam to talk to Chloe.
Chloe sighed, “I don’t know. I hope so, for Lex’s sake, but it’s so close to Oxford…” She repeated herself, the words trailing off at the end.
“Okay,” Sam interjected, “we managed to get out of the airport, we’ll be fine.” He grinned with a confidence that he was not feeling.
Chloe nodded, reassured by Sam’s assurance. “Keep following me, stay close behind and if you need anything, flash your lights. Okay?”
“Yep. Although… why not just phone Sally’s mobile?”
“Networks are down. It was bound to happen, with the power going off yesterday.”
“Okay, just use your hazards if you want to get our attention.”
“Will do,” confirmed Chloe as she turned and walked back to her car.
Sam wound the windows back up
and turned to Sally, “You don’t like this idea, do you?” he asked.
“Nope,” she replied quickly, “I understand that Lex wants to know about her parents, but Oxford… it’s going to be crawling with those things, and all we have are a few table legs and a shotgun.” She looked back at Sam, her face flushing with shame as he silently studied her. “I don’t know,” she added. ‘It just… I have a feeling something will go wrong.”
“If it was your parents, what would you do?” Sam asked.
Sally tilted her head to one side and considered the question, “I’d like to think that I would want to do what’s right for the group and take the safest option, but… I guess I would want to know too,” She conceded.
Sam put the car into gear and slowly pulled away behind Chloe, “We’ll get as close as we can. If it’s too bad, then chances are they wouldn’t have survived anyway.”
Sally nodded and chewed on her bottom lip, but didn’t respond. Instead, she stared out of the window as the countryside rolled by. Sam reached out a hand and squeezed her knee.
“We’ll be alright,” he reassured her. He left his hand on her leg, taking comfort in the human contact. He was scared, really fucking scared but he felt a growing responsibility towards this group. As the only man, an unfamiliar, yet deeply rooted instinct to protect them was bubbling to the surface. Still, the feel of Sally’s soft leg beneath his hand gave him comfort.
Sally stared down at Sam's hand, then glanced up at him. He was staring intently in front, seemingly concentrating on driving. Confused at this display of affection, she picked his hand up to remove it from her leg, but instead of just flicking his hand away, she found herself clasping it tightly.
Safe Zone (Book 1): The Greater Good Page 16