We headed out the front door. I heard wailed behind me, "try not to piss anyone off, big brother."
How nice a situation when that's all I had to worry about for the day.
* * *
Rick fell into walking beside me again, perhaps more out of habit than anything else. I decided to hit my concerns head on. Life was now definitely too short for titting around. "This seems like a pretty safe place. We don't have to stick together anymore, if that's what you'd prefer."
"You telling me to fuck off?"
"No," I answered cautiously, "but you didn't have to come with me in the first place and... fuck it, let's be honest, Rick. We weren't friends before any of this happened. I understand if you don't feel any need to...whatever. Not hang out, that sounds childish."
"I know what you mean, Warren." He scratched at the back of his head, hopefully trying to find the right words to say. "I've found it hard, getting on with you. You can be a real twat sometimes, you know? And you're no better than anyone else really, despite how you act a lot of the time. At first, I just put up with you because you're Carla's brother. But you were the one that saw through Austin on the pier. You were the one that got us as far as the pier in the first place. You've got us here. You saved my life, too. I can't forget that. I can forgive my first opinion of you. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe I’m becoming immune to you. Whatever, I suppose I'm just trying to say, let's just call it a truce, hey? Friends?"
I was stunned. That was the most pathetic attempt at an apology I had ever heard in my life. I looked in his eyes. He seemed genuine. I wasn't an expert in body language, but a career in journalism had given me a keen sense for bullshit, and I sensed none here. The cynical part of me—and that was still a large part—believed that Carla had most likely put him up to this. It was easier than having to fight enemies on the home front though, so I took his proffered hand and shook it firmly.
"Thanks, Rick." I swallowed a bit of pride to give the peace offering a bit more realness. "I know I bossed things around in the early days. I just wanted to make sure we were all safe."
"Well we were. It worked out fine, didn't it? Look at where we are."
He was right enough. The same three that had set out from High Salvington were alive and together. Almost everyone we had encountered on the way though were either dead or infected. I felt like the fifth horseman of the apocalypse: Hapless.
We encountered a surprising and pleasing number of friendly faces on the way back to the garage. Everyone nodded for us. We weren't recognised, but we weren't undead. Anyone that was a healthy face in this place became a friend by proxy. We were our own island of safety. Outside the walls, the fight against the endless hordes of the undead continued to rage. I felt heartened. We couldn't be alone. Statistically, if this many people had clustered together, then there were enough similar places and enough people in the country that there should be dozens of places like this. This was real life, not a TV show. I had no doubt that there would be little pockets of people, like Trish and her girls, that felt surviving on the outside was a better idea. But the math was irrefutable. Even if only one percent of the UK population got infected or died, that still left nearly a million survivors. I tried to think how many undead I had killed, and felt dismayed that I had already lost count. I would start again from zero. It was something I had to know. Because, if there were a round figure of one million of us, and each one of us took out as many of the undead as I had we could defeat the infection, we could clear down and rebuild.
It seemed like an impossible premise, but the figures were there and the logic was simple. All we needed to do was work together. It wasn't such a small country after all.
Rick seemed happy for me to let my mind wander and muse until we got to the garage. Travis was sitting in there again behind his desk, and whilst he didn't exactly look ecstatic to see us, he didn't grimace at us like we were something that he'd scraped off the bottom of his heel.
"I checked your skill sheets. There is nothing practical I can set you to so for the time being, you will be working for Richard on the guard detail. Go down to the gate and meet him there. He'll ask some questions about your capabilities and assign you duties as he sees fit."
We were metaphorically waved away. I didn't mind. I had spent enough of my time since the outbreak in the spotlight. It was going to be nice being able to sink into the background and get on with some humdrum. It wasn't going to last forever. Not for any of us. Not that this place was going to burn and ruin. I decided it was more likely that, as I was going to be put on guard duty and placed in harm's way with apparent regularity, my own life expectancy had more than halved. I didn't want to spend what remained of my life being the scapegoat for someone else's actions, or the antagonist to some new-age apocalypse sociopath who had decided tits were the new currency.
Based on what I could see at the defences though, Richard wasn't planning on having all the people at his disposal cop-it within the first month or so of their duty. He looked like he was directing traffic. With over two dozen people clustered in front of him, I probably wasn't far wrong in my estimations. As we approached, a handful of them trotted off in the other direction. They were carrying a random assortment of weapons, none of which looked like they had any range to them. I wondered how they actually managed to deal with the undead from a distance. I had to assume they did nothing at all, hence their best efforts to not actually attract the attention of any of the undead.
Richard acknowledged us, waving us closer to the circle as he carried on talking. A couple of people checked us out, but we were largely overlooked. I was pleased to see a mixture of men and women in the defence group. None of the segregation we had seen Austin leading at the pier. He was on the tail end of more instructions.
"Groups three and four, we've seen some more activity at the walls recently on your side. Be vigilant, but remember to stay out of site. If you need a second opinion, get to your radio and call me over. Do not take any action without consulting me first. Do not go over the walls on your own. I do not want to lose someone else like that. If we have to, we can set off the cars to draw away large packs, but we know that they will just wander off if we don't give them a reason to stick around."
I thought back to the shambling undead that lingered beneath the pier for days on end, and instantly thought that he had his information wrong there. I didn't voice my concerns. I wasn't the head of security in this place.
"If you're new here then stay put for a few minutes. I'll go through the basics with you and then assign you to a group," Richard said. He trotted off with the majority of the group. Rick and I were left looking a little uncertain. Thankfully, the one person we were left with looked just as put out. She wouldn't make eye contact with us, and seemed intent on scrutinising the ground. That gave me ample opportunity to get a good look at her. She was a nicely built woman. She had a strong-looking figure; a healthy necessity now as opposed to the simple aesthetic preference I'd had before. Her chestnut brown hair had been scrappily cut short, and I remembered my commentary washing earlier this morning. She didn't have long sleeves on, and I couldn't help but notice the livid purple bruises that were streaked down one arm Her clothes didn't fit very well. I guessed they weren't her own if my own ridiculous clothes were anything to go by. One cheek had a certain unnatural redness to it, too. I doubted she had been in the community when this all broke out.
"I'm Warren."
She looked up, and I was taken aback momentarily by an unexpected set of pale green eyes. The lid around one was slightly swollen, which went hand in hand with the bruising she already had. I wanted to know her story. How soon would be too soon to ask?
"I'm Karen." She smiled, though it was a little lopsided. Because of nerves? Shyness?
"I'm Rick," he offered, "pleased to meet you."
"Why?" she asked plainly. "Do you know me?"
Rick look confused and I openly grinned. I definitely liked her. Not a smile of either shyness or nerves then. Perh
aps she was just naturally meek. Somehow, I doubted it. I stepped the conversation in to prevent any awkward silences after her response to Rick. "Where abouts did you make it here from?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Go for it. We've got a pretty unbelievable story ourselves."
"London. Central London."
I smiled, pleased to meet a fellow Londoner. "Me too. Feels pretty surreal, making it out of there alive. Where were you?"
"I don't want to say. It's pretty embarrassing to be honest."
"Go on. I don't think embarrassment exists anymore with the way things are. I was lucky. I think I saw one of the first ones. I didn't hang around. Just got straight out of there."
"See, that's the kind of thing that makes sense. And is sensible. I was the opposite of sensible."
I arched up both eyebrows, and was dimly aware that we were flirting. "You're here. You can't have been that bad."
She flicked some hair behind her ear. I knew this was a good sign. "I went to work for a start. The news is bleating that it's the end of days, and I still went into work because I was scared of my boss."
I gave a low whistle. I didn't want to call her an idiot, because I didn't want to seem too insensitive. But that was pretty fucking stupid. "Do you live far out of London?"
"Not really. And I went into the office like super early. I was in there before six a.m. If it had been any later, I don't think I'd have made it out. When they shut down the Tubes, there were already infected people in the system. I heard that entire carriages got torn apart."
"I saw some footage on the net. London was not a good place to be. How did you manage to get out of there in one piece?"
"Oh it wasn't just me. It was a team effort. I worked at an accountancy firm. We were a small place, but we all stuck together, you know? And I wasn't the only one in the office. I'm not sure how much that says for how much of a tosser my boss was, but there you have it. As soon as we heard transport was being shut down, one guy votes we start making a run for it. And we do. There were nearly a dozen of us. We didn't have much by the way of weapons, but it was such carnage out there that we picked things up along the way. The running scenes you see in horror films? That was us. A couple of us were picked off. We just...we couldn't look back. I still hear them in my dreams at night. I wish we could have saved them. So many are dead though. So they're just...well just another number now, you know?
"I didn't really believe in God before all of this happened. Now, I definitely don't. I'm just happy to be alive," her eyes grew fierce, "and I'll do everything I can to make anyone that should be dead, back that way."
I couldn't ignore the little shudder that the end to her speech gave me. She met me square in the eyes. "So, Lucky, how did you make it here in one piece?"
"I nearly didn't."
In turns, Rick and I recounted the story of our dash from High Salvington to the pier, and all that happened in between. She widened her eyes at Austin's actions, and at the news he was still allowed to be in the community.
"I heard they have laws here. I like that. Seems kind of pointless if the criminals are still allowed to live with us though."
"He's under house arrest. He's not a threat to anyone," Rick said nonchalantly. I wasn’t so sure.
Rich had returned to the group. He was on his own. I didn't like the stern look on his face, that he'd had to break us up talking about one of the criminals that were presumably under his care, as head of security. "Come on. I'll take you on a tour of what we do here."
He waved us with him, and we all fell into step like obedient children following a teacher. Rich was calm. It wasn't hard to exude silent authority when you were built like a brick outhouse. He folded his arms behind his back and looked over his shoulder at us occasionally, as if to check that we were still paying attention. In the main, he assumed that we would be there, and hanging on his every word.
"I've been in the community since the first day of the outbreak, and I helped to make it secure. I wasn't an outspoken person before the crisis, but I'm making it a point to take the security of this place very seriously. There are now literally hundreds of people within these walls, and I intend to make sure they are alive and well until the government pulls their fingers out of their arses and pull us out of this shitstorm."
"Do you really think they will be putting a plan together to fix this?" I asked. I was genuinely curious. I had given up any hope of the government planning anything remotely close to a rescue package.
"If I'm being honest with you Warren, no I don't. I'm only telling you this because you asked. But I have to tell people that, because it's what most normal people want to hear. Oh hang on, you're the one that had the... interesting things happen before getting here, aren't you? We'll have to meet separately and have a chat about what you've managed to do. You might be beneficial on more than wall duty."
Rick bristled beside me, but stayed sensibly silent. 'More than wall duty' sounded like it meant duties outside of the walls. That meant more encounters with the undead, and I think we'd both had enough of that to last a lifetime, no matter what our longevity. I didn't envy Rick his anonymity.
Karen gave me an admiring glance. I'd been regaling her with my exploits after all. She was apparently impressed by what she heard. I wasn't going to argue with Rich though. He was a man that was used to having people do as he asked, and that was a habit that clearly stretched well before this apocalypse. Our walk continued uninterrupted with Rich's commentary, and I couldn't help be impressed despite the obvious advantages being in a specially-designed walled community brought. The community had been designed to keep out normal human beings before; now, with the undead seemingly incapable of cogent thought, it was a veritable fortress. With the length of the walls and the noise being kept to a minimum, they weren't able to come into big enough numbers against the wall to cluster and create a ramp. The posts that Rich had told us about were spaced frequently. They were made of whatever materials came to hand. Some were a cluster of ladders and pallets. These were later additions, I was sure. One was a minibus. Clambering around on that would be weird. All of them had two people at each. There were an impressive number of people helping to bolster the community defences. I had no problem becoming a part of this. An island of democracy in a sea of nepotism was not an issue at all. I would be eager to cement my place once I saw what punishment they decided to mete out to Austin. It would be even more impressive, and beneficial to me, if they were to make Carla in charge of laws. Rick seemed equally impressed. Karen looked borderline gleeful.
"What kind of weapons do you use?"
"Ah I'm glad you asked that. What have you been using so far?"
We all shrugged, and offered the household litany of equipment that I'm sure most of the UK had resorted to using in the last couple of weeks. Rich was nodding along with us. We weren't mentioning anything that he hadn't heard yet. "That's good. Melee experience is important, especially outside the wall, but we need everyone in here to be comfortable with using anything they can get to hand in case we are breached. It's not something I'm expecting to happen, but we're not here because life has been going in an expected way. Now, I'd like a word with Warren about some of the work we do outside the wall. No offense, Karen, and you too, Rick, I'm sure in the future we'll be calling on both of you to help us on some of our recon tasks. But we're looking for some individuals that have had massive levels of exposure to the infected to help head up a few outings. I'll need you two to come back to the wall tomorrow morning, earlier this time just after dawn, and I'll post you on watch. Warren?"
I followed Rich as he headed up the road, leaving Rick and Karen standing alone. I looked back at them both. They shrugged at me, and Rick gave a sarcastic thumbs-up.
I didn't feel comfortable driving the conversation at the moment with this man, so I just waited until we reached our destination—his own shared house. He headed to the kitchen and straight to the cabinets. My eyes gleamed at the whisky
he pulled out. Laphroaig single malt. Finally, something decent. He pulled two small glasses out, and I tried not to pout at the small portions meted out. I tried to remember that we were in an effective warzone and rationing was definitely well in swing. He slid one my way.
"Now this isn't the usual way we do things in the community, but I don't like to talk about this with anyone dry. I've heard you've seen some pretty nasty things out there."
"Me and Rick have both seen it," I tried, "so if you're desperate for bodies?"
"We can always use more hands on board, but desperation is the right word to use. I don't want to put anyone on my outside teams for the sake of numbers. That's just going to get people killed. Now I've heard well enough from your sister that you've both dealt with the undead. But I've heard from a couple of the folk in your house that you...well you just seem like more of a bastard than your friend. We need the decision makers out there, not the followers."
"Ah, my reputation precedes me. And here I was hoping to make a fresh start."
"There's no such thing as fresh starts anymore," Rich said with a lopsided grin. "Everything in this country is rotten, and we're the cleanup crew. I need the best at my disposal to begin with, but we need to keep some capable bodies back, too, in case everything goes wrong. If you think Rick is going to take it badly, I can have a word with him?"
I shook my head. "No Rick won't take it to heart, and neither should you. We've all got too much to worry about at the minute to worry if we're going to offend each other about little things like that."
"See what I mean? You're perfect. I could pull a dozen other people here and they'd want me to smooth things over. You don't give a fuck. I need the people that don't give a fuck, Warren, because our rules out there are going to be simple. Retrieve the Shopping List. Look out for each other sure, but we do not bring back our injured. They are going to be left behind whether they are alive or dead. I can't have sentiment out there."
Great Bitten (Book 2): Survival Page 9