For the briefest of moments, she considered running up to one of the crawlers. Letting it bite her. Kill her. So she could join her parents in death. She shook the thought away almost as quickly as it came. Her parents would not want that.
“We need to leave. Now,” she said to the others. Her tone left no room for debate.
“Er, yeah,” Sam said as he surveyed the road before them.
They jogged the few metres to the car. Sam stopped at the rear to put the shopping bags in the boot.
“Shit. Sorry. I left the keys in the house.” He said, flustered. Dumping the bags on the road, he dashed back to the house. Picked up the keys and ran back to the car. “Got them.” He said, dangling the keys from his hand.
“Sam. Unlock the bloody car.” Lex hissed, hopping away from a crawler that was lunging for her legs.
He clicked the button for the central locking, and the four of them jumped in.
“Shit,” Sam said again. I forgot the bags.”
“I’ll get them. You get the car started,” Claire said, jumping out of the car.
Sam adjusted the seat and started the engine just as the boot slammed shut.
“Okay, we’re ready to go,” Claire said breathlessly as she slid back into the seat.
Sally sat in the front passenger seat watching the scene from the windows. Sam concentrated on safely navigating past the bodies. Lex sat behind Sally, also staring out of the window, lost in thought and paying no heed to the surroundings. None of them noticed as Claire reached down to touch her ankle. Nor when she discreetly wiped the blood from her fingers on the inside of her sleeve.
At the end of the street, the car came to a stop.
“What way?” Sam asked.
“Left,” Sally said.
“Right,” Lex said.
“But it’s left to my house,” Sally said, turning to look at Lex, still sullenly staring out the window.
“Which means Chloe would have gone right,” Lex said. “We are going after her, aren’t we?” The tone in which she spoke implied it was a command and not a question.
Sam glanced at Sally, who gave a curt nod of her head. Sam turned left.
They drove in silence for a few miles until they reached a junction. Again, Sam stopped.
“Now where?”
“Lex?” Sally asks.
“How far have we gone?”
“Dunno, five or six miles maybe,” Sam replied.
“Try right. Maybe Chloe would have figured that she’d led them far enough away.”
“Okay. Right it is,” Sam said pulling away.
They had only been moving a few minutes when Sam slammed on the brakes.
“Oh shit.”
He hadn’t even finished the words when Lex jumped out of the car and ran towards the abandoned Audi.
“She’s not here,” the relief evident in her words. “No blood either.”
“Look,” Sam said, joining her next to the car. He pointed at the destroyed tyre. “Tyre’s blown,” she must have gone on foot from here.
“Must have,” Lex nodded in agreement, turned on her heel, and got back in the car without another word to Sam.
Sam dutifully followed.
They drove on through a couple of villages, but saw no sign of Chloe. They did come upon a massive horde of zombies, and there was no way around them. Once more Sam stopped the car and turned around to face Lex.
“I reckon that lot are following Chloe. We can’t go through and it’s too risky to follow them. What do you want to do?”
“Since when did I become the decision maker?” Lex snapped in response, “Why don’t you ask Sally or Claire?”
Sam swallowed the response he wanted to give, “Er … okay … Claire, what do you want to do?”
Claire looked up sharply, “Let’s just go to Sally. Chloe will meet us there. I’m sure she’s fine,” She spoke quickly and quietly.
Lex tutted, but said nothing, instead, choosing to stare unseeing on to the road.
“Right, Sally, which way?” Sam asked. Ignoring the tut coming from Lex’s direction.
“Take the next left. I’ll direct you from there,” Sally said, taking care to hide the sense of relief that she was finally going home.
~
The drive was uneventful, the roads deserted. Sam and Sally chatted inanely. The muted conversation served to distract them from the uncomfortable silence in the back seats. Lex remained sullen. Glaring out of the window as if the landscape had offended her. Claire sat quietly, lost in thought. A sheen of sweat glistened on her pale cheeks.
“Take this right,” Sally pointed, interrupting Sam’s lengthy description of a film he had seen before going to Spain.
Sam obeyed and drove past the wrought iron gates that led onto a long driveway. It reminded Sam of the entrance to a safari park he had visited when he was younger. A large house stood in the distance. As they approached, Sam searched for a way past the house, but the road seemed to stop with the house.
“Are you sure?” he asked Sally, “looks like a dead end,” he turned to her and saw the large smile on her face.
“Yes, I’m sure,” She laughed. “This is where I live.”
Sam turned from staring at the house to Sally and then back to the house again, “What?” he exclaimed, “Well … shit the bed,” he took in the impressive building.
The driveway came to an end in a large circle with a fountain in the middle. Water no longer cascaded from the flute held aloft by the statue of a child.
Steps led up to the large double doors that stood proudly between two white pillars. He left out a low whistle, “You must be fucking loaded.”
“I guess we’re well off,” Sally said, suddenly nervous that Sam would judge her because her family had money. Then a thought occurred to her, “Doesn’t matter anymore, though, does it?”
Sam considered her words. “No, I guess not. Money doesn’t buy much in a zombie apocalypse, does it?”
The doors opened, and a middle-aged balding man came running down the steps towards the approaching car.
“Dad,” Sally shrieked and jumped out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. She flung herself into her father’s waiting arms. Not ordinarily affectionate, the relief at seeing his daughter was palpable. He held her tightly.
The others got out of the car. George greeted Lex and Claire with a friendly nod.
Sam stood off to one side. Awkwardly shuffling from one foot to the other. Waiting for the older man to notice him.
George looked around, “Where are Chloe and Paige?” he asked, his tone one of polite enquiry, no sense of worry at the response. “And who is this?” he added, finally noticing Sam.
“Dad, this is Sam. My … erm … that’s our friend. He helped us get away from the airport. Sam, this is my Dad. George.” George didn’t notice the nervousness in her voice.
“Sir,” Sam said, proffering a hand to shake. Cringing inwardly. He hasn’t called anyone Sir since he’d been a school. Was he sucking up to Sally’s dad?
“Sam,” George responded with a firm handshake. Then immediately turned back to Sally, “Chloe, Paige?”
“Shall we get inside and I’ll tell you everything?” Sally said and tucked her arm into her father’s. She led him up the steps to the front door.
“I’ll get the bags,” Claire called to their retreating backs.
“I’ll help,” Sam added.
The pair returned to the car and opened the boot. Sam took out the lightest bags and handed them to Claire. She took them wordlessly. “Are you okay?” Sam asked. “Still upset with Lex?”
“What? I’m not upset with Lex?”
“So why have you been so… erm...” he paused searching for the right word. “Stroppy,” he said, then winced as her head dropped and she fell silent. Sam waited patiently for a response, and eventually she sighed, looked back up and stared at a spot behind Sam’s right shoulder. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”
�
�Okay,” Sam replied, accepting her answer. He picked up the last of the bags from the car, shut the boot and turned towards the house, “Shall we?”
Claire dropped the bags as soon as they got through the front door.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said.
“Er, where?” Sam looked around him at the large entrance way, unsure of where to go.
“They’re probably in the kitchen. Second door on the right,” Claire cut him off, anticipating the question.
“Cheers.”
Picking up the carrier bags that Claire had discarded, he shuffled in the direction she’d indicated. The inside of the house was even more intimidating than the outside. He felt uncomfortable in such surroundings. He didn’t belong here. It felt like a museum, not a home.
He stood awkwardly at the entrance to the large kitchen, watching as Sally talked animatedly with her father, Lex busying herself making coffee. Water was already boiling in a pan on the large range cooker.
He coughed quietly at first, then louder. All in the room ignored him. The feeling of unease grew.
“Um … where shall I put these?” he eventually asked.
George waved a hand idly and pointed in the general direction of the worktop under the window. He didn’t look at Sam. Already considering him someone not important. Not worth knowing.
Under the weight of the various bags, Sam trudged over and heaved them onto the marble work surface. He cringed as a tin of tomatoes rolled out of the bag and fell to the floor, hitting the cream tiles with a thud.
“Shit, sorry,” he said, then realising he’d just sworn in front of Sally’s Dad, blurted out, “Shit, didn’t mean to swear. Oh crap … sorry,” he felt a flush grow up his cheeks and turned sheepishly to Sally and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. Sally glanced at him with a reassuring smile, then continued her conversation with George.
Reluctant to take a seat at the table without an invitation, he stared out of the window. The garden before him was breathtaking. He had grown up in narrow streets of terraced houses. Small back yards, usually covered in dog shit and discarded furniture. This back garden, if you could call it that, seemed to go on forever. A neat and clean patio area held more furniture than Sam had in his entire flat. It led on to a lush green, perfectly manicured lawn, which was bordered by stylish flower beds. Stepping stones wound through the grass, leading up to a small bridge over a stream. A woodland area stood in the distance, which seemed to stretch on for miles.
He considered the location. The long driveway protected by large gates. The solid front door. The large garden.
It seemed like a perfect place to hole up until things got sorted out. Then the emotional side of him took over.
He didn’t like it here. Sally’s dad was already coming across as a bit of an arse. He wasn’t comfortable. How long could he stay here? Then a sudden thought struck him. Would he be allowed to stay? Surely, they wouldn’t kick him out now that he had helped them get here. Shit. What if Sally told her dad what they had done in Alicante? How he had treated her afterwards? He’d be kicked out for sure.
He stared out of the window, lost in panicked thoughts, his mind conflicted between the intimidation he felt here and the yearning to stay with other people. People that he was beginning to like and consider friends. Then there was Sally. He didn’t want to leave Sally. Shit. The more he thought about it, the more anxious he grew. When did that happen? When did he start having feelings for her? Shit.
Lex placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of him. A blush crept up his cheeks as she looked at him with sympathy.
Why was she looking at him like that? Could she tell what he had been thinking? Had she come over to tell him he needed to leave now? Or maybe just to shout at him again.
“Hi,” he said, “erm, sorry, I meant cheers.” He lifted the mug to show that he was thanking her for the drink.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, “you soon get used to it.”
“What?”
“The house. It’s intimidating at first but you’ll get over it.”
“Oh, yeah, right. The house.”
“I just assumed that was what you were thinking about. You looked so lost in thought and worried.”
“Yeah, yeah. The house. It’s er...”
“Big?” Lex suggested helpfully, “Pretentious? Ostentatious?”
Sam laughed, “I don’t know what those last two mean, but they seem about right.”
“Shall we?” Lex gestured to the table.
Sam nodded, “Okay,” he felt nervous. Admitting to himself that he liked Sally was scary. He didn’t like girls. Sure, he liked sex, but he did not build bonds. Small talk was used to get them into bed. Not to get to know them. Once they'd had sex, he would ignore them. Not even bothering to pretend that he would call or text them. He’d never had a girlfriend. Never thought he would. Now he was about to join the first girl he liked, at a table with her dad.
“Sam,” Lex nudged him, “Come on.”
They walked over to the table. Lex took a seat next to George. Sam chose the seat next to Sally. He put his coffee on the table and pulled the chair out. It scraped loudly across the floor.
“Sorry.”
George looked at Sam with distaste. Then spotting the coffee, he made a point of lifting it up and putting it on a coaster.
“Shit … er, I mean sorry. Again. Ya know, for the chair and the coffee. Yeah, sorry.” he stammered.
“Don’t worry, Sam,’ Sally smiled kindly at him, then turned to George, “Dad. Be nice. Remember I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Sam.”
“Nah, you’d have been fine,” Sam protested, “Stealing a bus, getting to the airport alone, shooting that guy. Ow.” He looked over at Sally who had kicked him under the table. She was frowning.
“What,” George’s voice boomed around the room, “You seem to have left that bit out of the story, Sally.”
‘Haha, Sam’s just joking, Dad,” she turned to Sam and kicked him under the table. “Aren’t you?”
“Er, haha, yeah. Just joking.”
“You have a very strange sense of humour, young man,” George chastised. “It is not amusing to joke about stealing and shooting people.”
“No, Sir … er sorry, Sir. I won’t do it again,” Sam said, relieved when he felt Sally’s hand squeeze his knee.
“Please don’t call me Sir. I’m not a teacher. You can call me Mr Carlton.”
“Er … cheers … Mr er Carlton.”
George nodded curtly at him. “Where is Claire? We need to decide what to do next.” He said, turning back to face Sally.
“She went to the bog, er… Mr Carlton,” Sam said. “Although that was ages ago. Ha. She must be having a …” He let the words trail off, “that is, she might have decided to have a sleep or summat. She said she was tired. Ya know, when we were unloading the car.”
“Sally. Go and find Claire,” George instructed. “I’d like you all to be here, so I only need to tell you my plans once.”
Sally scurried off, keen to hear what her Dad was planning. She felt a sense of relief. She didn’t understand what her father did for a living, but she was aware that he knew important people.
Maybe there was a safe place that they had put the Prime Minister and other influential people, that they could go.
Sam noted that very quickly, George had gone from suggesting a discussion about what to do next, to having definite plans he wanted to tell them. This man was intimidating and if Sam was honest, a bit of a dick.
“Plans?” Lex said, her voice light, but Sam saw the familiar hard look in her eyes. Evidently, she had also noticed the quick change from discussion to telling.
“Yes, Alexis. I have an idea, but I don’t like repeating myself. Therefore, we will wait until Claire and Sally are here.”
Lex did not respond, and the room fell into silence. Sam played with his now empty mug. Ignoring the impatient tapping of George’s fingers against the table.
Mo
ments later, Sally returned to the kitchen, followed by Claire. Claire’s eyes were red and swollen. Her face blotchy and she walked with a noticeable limp.
“Are you alright?” Lex asked Claire. It was clear that she had been crying.
“I’m just tired,’ Claire said, “Oh and I twisted my ankle getting out of the car,” she added. Sam looked over at her as she hobbled to the table. She hadn’t mentioned that she’d hurt her ankle when they were unloading the bags.
Oblivious to Sam staring at Claire suspiciously, and the silent conversation between Lex and Sally, that consisted of glances and shrugs. George began to address them. “Now that we are all here. I have been made aware of safe zones that have been set up around the country.” He puffed his chest out, giving an air of self-importance.
“By whom?”
“Where?”
“How d’you know?”
“One at a time. One of my political contacts has informed me of the existence of these zones. They have been set up by the military. While my contact had no information on the actual locations, I did receive a text this morning suggesting that I head to Linthem.”
“A text?” Sally asked, “who from?”
“The number wasn’t familiar to me. I did try to call, but by the time I saw the message, I had no signal. However, I do have many acquaintances that would know about such matters, and therefore we can consider the source reliable.” He paused. He expected at least one of the young people to challenge him. He was unconcerned as to why someone he didn’t know would reach out and offer a safe haven. He was George Carlton. In circumstances such as these, it was to be expected that people would be falling over themselves to try and help.
He looked around at the four faces. They seemed to accept this decision without question, “Right then. We shall leave at first light. It is getting dark now. I would suggest we avoid the roads at night.”
“You mean, at first light if Chloe is here by then?” Lex asked.
George looked over at Lex, “It would be ideal if Chloe is here by then. However, if she is not, we must leave regardless.”
“No,” said Lex.
“Pardon?” George replied, not used to being questioned. Especially by a teenage girl.
Safe Zone (Book 1): The Greater Good Page 20