Infected- The Beginning
Page 21
The keys were still in the ignition and the car was still in third gear, so it seemed that once the driver had been shot the car had stalled on the incline. John opened the driver’s door and after grappling with the seat belt he pulled the driver out.
“Well, this makes things a whole lot easier,” John said, climbing into the driver’s seat.
He pulled on the handbrake, put the car into neutral and turned the key; the engine burst into life at the first attempt. The other three of us moved to one side as John reversed the car back down the hill. We then started to move bodies as John found a suitable spot to park the car. Some of the bodies did appear to be infected, but that of a very tall man was not. At his side lay an over-and-under 12-bore shotgun, and he had a number of cartridges in a belt around his waist. Brian picked up the shotgun, removed the cartridge belt and handed them both to Tom.
“You’d better have these, just in case,” said Brian.
I noticed that the shells were loaded with a number six shot – good for shooting wood pigeon, but you would have to be really close to stop an infected person.
“That’s it – let’s get out of here before that nutcase who appears to shoot anything sees us,” I said.
We wasted no time getting back to our vehicles and were soon on our way again, down the steep decline as we left Danbury behind us. Passing over the A12, John slowed down for us to look along the dual carriageway in both directions for any signs of movement, but as far as we could see everything appeared to be motionless. We passed the park-and-ride on our right, where there were still a number of cars, indicating that many people never made it out of Chelmsford. John then took the second left past Sandon high school, and surprisingly the road was relatively clear, taking us across the A130 which led into the Army and Navy roundabout, well known in better times for its very impressive traffic jams.
Eventually we turned right into the Brinkley retail park, where the gun shop was situated. After manoeuvring around a few corpses and sending a number of crows skywards, John stopped by the entrance with Tom close behind. One of the glass double doors was cracked, but it appeared the strengthened glass had held together quite well. This could be a problem if we can’t get into the shop, I thought.
Before getting out of our vehicles, we checked the surrounding area for any signs of movement, as had become regular procedure. There were a number of bodies lying in the parking area outside the Brinkley Furniture store, but being further away we had not yet disturbed the vermin feeding off them. On closer inspection, there were a number of what appeared to be bullet holes in the windows and wood panelling of the store.
“There must be sixty to eighty dead people here,” John observed.
“Well, someone must have put up one hell of a fight,” added Brian.
“Tom had better come with us,” I said. “Brian, can you stand guard outside, while we check out the gun shop?”
“Will do.”
We all clambered out of the truck and walked over to Tom and Linda, who had stayed in their car. As we approached, Tom opened the door and got out to meet us.
“Tom, I’m standing guard so you can go in with James and John and choose your weapon – if there’s anything left, that is,” said Brian.
“OK, let’s do it,” replied Tom.
John and I didn’t say a word and headed for the double doors of the store with Tom in tow. The larger double doors were wide open, held back by a large free-standing “Open” sign. John reached the inner doors and pulled the right-hand one with the cracked window, and it opened easily. He moved cautiously inside, with me close behind. Camouflage clothing, boots and gloves were scattered over the floor.
“Anybody there?” John called out.
He and I froze, waiting for something to happen, then there was a clank! behind us as Tom tripped and fell into a clothing rack. John and I turned together with guns at the ready.
“Sorry,” said Tom meekly.
John and I returned to our original heading and continued to the next section, where a number of gun safes were lined up against the wall with an entrance to the right into the next section. Again the floor was covered with clothing and shooting accessories. At least we had an answer to John’s question: No.
The third section was dedicated to air rifles and associated accessories. On the far wall was a rack usually full of air rifles, with a few more hanging on the wall above, but there were only a few left. A glass cabinet on our right, which contained pellets and targets, had been broken into and a large part of its contents were scattered over the floor. We progressed into the fourth section, containing shotguns and rifles. To our left there had once been racks full of shotguns, but their numbers had been dramatically depleted. Fortunately, a few remained.
“This eight-shot pump-action is the only one I can see,” said John, picking up a Mossberg.
Tom was looking at the over-and-under shotguns.
“I like this one,” he said, indicating one in particular.
“Very nice, Tom, but not practical for our purposes,” I said. “John’s got the best one for the job.”
“This should do, too,” added John. He had turned his attention to the now-depleted rifle rack and held a standard Ruger 10/22.
“Right, that’ll do – let’s find some ammo for these two guns,” I said.
“Can we get a more powerful rifle, Dad – something with a bit more range on it?” asked John.
“Make sure you get a rifle chambered for the common calibres – .308, .223, maybe a .243 or a 22/250,” I replied. “The .308 is the most powerful of the four. But we need ammo for what we have, first.”
John, Tom and I entered the storeroom at the back of the shop. We managed to load up Tom with 12-bore Eley Hawk Alphamax+ shells loaded with BBs and one-shots, while John managed to collect about 5,000 rounds of .22LR ammo of various brands.
“John, you have a look for the rifle you want, and Tom and I will take this lot back to the truck,” I said.
“OK, see you shortly,” replied John.
“Don’t be too long,” I said.
Tom and I returned to the truck, storing our new acquisitions in the back. Brian looked really pleased to see us.
“Took your time! Where’s John?” he asked.
“Should be here shortly – he’s looking for a more powerful rifle,” I said.
We waited and waited, and Tom returned to his car while Brian and I continued to look around the surrounding area.
“James, have you noticed the vermin seem to be getting closer?” Brian asked.
“Yes,” I replied, as a very large rat made its way from one body to another not ten yards in front of us. The crows were almost as close, and more and more vermin started to appear as we stood waiting in silence. It was amazing to see three rats fighting over a finger on one body even though there were plenty of other corpses to choose from.
After 20 minutes, John had still not returned.
“That’s it, Brian. I’m going to get him,” I said.
Walking through the front doors, as I turned to the left John appeared in front of me, causing me to jump involuntarily.
“Jesus Christ, John!” I cried.
John smiled at my reaction.
“Hi, Dad,” he said.
I noticed he was carrying some sort of bolt-action hunting rifle and a lot of centrefire ammo.
“Nice-looking rifle – where did you find that?” I asked.
“It was in the storeroom at the back. The note on it said its firing pin had just been replaced, plus the guy must have ordered two hundred rounds of ammo at the same time, so I took the lot. Also a telescopic sight and some mounts,” John replied.
We approached the truck.
“What took you so long?” Brian asked John.
“Getting this,” said John, holding up the rifle.
He placed his ill-gotten gains in the back of the truck and we were finally on our way to the second gun shop in Great Baddow. We were all very pleased to leave the feeding vermin behind, creating the most gruesome scene as they ate from the rotting corpses.
Less than five minutes later, we were pulling into the small parking area in front of the next gun shop, which also had a large selection of fishing gear. This time John stood guard outside while Brian, Tom and I entered through the double doors. Once inside, the first thing we noticed was two bodies lying by the counter in front of us. There was another lying on our right amongst the fishing gear.
“Brian, see if you can find any twelve-bore cartridges, preferably with a BB or one-shot load,” I said.
Tom started to look behind the counter and Brian went to the small storeroom at the back. I turned my attention to a compound bow hanging on the wall and promptly removed it, and on my left were packs of 30-inch arrows, which I also took. Sooner or later, we were going to run out of ammo and this would be the only way of taking the infected down without getting up close and personal.
“How you guys doing?” I called to no one in particular.
“Found some,” came a reply from the storeroom.
“Me too,” Tom replied from behind the counter.
“Any BB or one-shot?” I asked.
“I have some. What’s AAA shot?” asked Brian from the storeroom.
“Get that and anything else you can carry, Brian. Tom, you do the same and let’s get out of here,” I said.
John’s faint voice came from outside the shop.
“Dad, we have incoming.”
“Let’s go now, guys,” I said, opening the shop door.
I quickly dumped the bow and arrows in the back of John’s truck.
“Behind you, Dad!” John shouted.
Looking behind, a group of 15 infected were approaching us, now less than 50 yards away. Turning back towards the shop, John was starting to take aim as Tom and Brian appeared at the entrance carrying boxes of 12-bore cartridges.
“Get the shells in the truck, quick – we’ve got company!” I said.
At that moment, John opened fire with the Ruger, causing two of the infected to fall to the ground. The others were now only 40 yards away and getting closer. My turn, I thought as I opened fire on the nearest, seeing seven or eight holes appear in his head. He fell to the ground, as did another which had been behind him. Firing another three shots in quick succession, four more went down. Tom and Brian had now reached the truck and had put the shells in the back.
“Tom, get your car started. Brian, help Dad while I start the truck,” said John after dropping a further three infected with the Ruger.
Brian didn’t need any further prompting and opened fire on the remaining infected, who were now only 20 yards away, causing two of them to fall. The final five were only ten yards away, the closest being hit between the eyes with the main blast from the 3.5-inch magnum, causing his face to disintegrate into a bloody mess. The next was hit in the throat at eight yards and his head became detached from the rest of his body apart from a piece of flesh.
John had taken care of another as I lined up on the fourth, now only five yards away. The shot pattern was so tight at that range that it cut a three-inch groove through the top of its head, sending bits in all directions. John fired at the last – a woman – hitting her in the shoulder. As she spun round, Brian fired, which removed the back of her head, sending the infected tumbling forward to the ground. Brian and I looked at each other as both of us started to breathe again.
“Well, you two coming, then?” John shouted from the open truck window.
Brian and I climbed into the truck in silence and spontaneously started to reload the shotguns as though we were on some kind of autopilot. John pulled away with Tom following behind, and we took the back roads into Boreham as there would be fewer obstacles in the road. Within ten minutes we driving through the remaining corpses on Connor Way. As John arrived back at our barricade, there didn’t seem to be any additional bodies, and all appeared as we had left it.
“I’ll get the keys to the Micra,” I said, descending from the truck.
“Don’t be too long,” John urged.
I gave John a wave while negotiating the barricade and headed towards the house. Mary opened the door before I reached it.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, with Josephine standing directly behind her. “I take it you need these,” she continued, waving the car keys in the air.
“Well done,” I said, taking the keys from Mary’s hand.
“You’ve been a long time,” she said.
“I’ll tell you all about it when we have everybody settled,” I said.
The Micra burst into life, and I moved it forward a short distance to give John and Tom enough room to drive through. John drove past our house and stopped outside number 39, with Tom pulling up behind.
I moved the Micra back into place and strolled over to where John, Tom and their passengers were standing. Mary and Josephine had now joined them. As I was about to pass our house, Linda and her children arrived at our side, and Mat and Sara came out of their side gate.
“Wait for us, James,” said Miles, coming from behind us with his daughter and two sons.
Miles’s wife Maria appeared at Lucy’s door and started to walk towards us, followed by Lucy and her two children. As we joined the group outside number 39, Ruth began to tell the others what she had seen, and the other residents of the close listened intently as she told her story.
Brian, John, Tom and I emptied the truck, moving the goods into number 39, placing them in the centre of the living room floor, and then proceeded to do the same with the contents of Tom’s car.
“Tom, we’ll let you and Ruth sort that lot out,” I said as we walked back outside to join the others.
Tom and John moved the vehicles around, John parking the truck at the side of our house and Tom leaving his car in front of number 39. After our greetings to the others and a chat, John and I said our goodbyes, leaving Mary and Josephine in a general discussion with the other ladies.
“Time for a cup of tea and something to eat, John,” I said.
“Good plan, Dad. Oh yes, let’s get my new gun and ammo.”
“You do that and I’ll make the tea,” I said, heading for our front door.
After making the tea I went back into the living room to find John sitting on the sofa studying his newly acquired rifle, with a number of boxes of centrefire ammo at his side.
“So, what have you got, then?” I asked.
“None of the calibres you said, Dad. The rifle states it’s a Remington Magnum Safari,” John replied.
I picked up one of the boxes of ammo lying beside him so I could read the label.
“John, you did say you wanted something with a little more power – well, you’ve got it!” I said. “If you think we might come across an infected elephant or two, a .375 Holland and Holland magnum with a three-hundred-grain solid bullet should be capable of taking it down. You should be able to take an infected down with that, even if it’s hiding behind a flipping tree,” I commented with a smile.
“If we fit a telescopic sight to this, how far away do you think we would be able to hit something?” asked John.
“I think with the right type of ammo it should shoot reasonably flat out to five hundred yards. But you’ll have to zero the telescopic sight at about two hundred yards first, then try it at greater distances.”
“That could be tricky at the moment.”
Mary and Josephine then walked into the living room.
“We’re back. Ruth and Tom have gone to check out their new accommodation and to start putting their stuff away, which you left all over the living room floor,” said Mary.
“Does anybody want a sandwich and a drink?” asked Josephine.
“Did Bill say he was going to move to our close today?” asked John.
“Yeah – I’d forgotten all about that. Perhaps we’ll have a walk to his house later and see if he’s ready,” I said.
I was not too enthusiastic about moving, being so pleased to be finally sitting down and not doing anything.
Eventually Mary and Josephine arrived, carrying a large plate of sandwiches and, more importantly, our tea. John and I took it in turns to tell them of our adventures and the problem we had with some of the non-infected people – and the apparent sniper in Danbury.
It was now past 4.00 pm.
“John, it’s about time we went to see Bill and Rose to see if they are ready to move,” I said.
“Yeah, let’s go,” replied John, sounding pleased to be on the move again.
John and I collected our weapons and started to head for the front door.
“You’re not going out again?” said Mary.
“You’ve only just come back,” added Josephine.
“I did say to Bill and Rose we would help them to move today, and we need to keep our promise,” I replied.
“Alright, but don’t be too long this time,” pleaded Mary.
“Hopefully not,” said John as we both went out.
We made our way through the barricade, cautiously checking around the detached house for any sign of movement – there was none, apart from the vermin at the edge of the green and beyond. We stayed on the far side of the road as we passed the green, just in case there were any dogs looking for fresher meat. Most of the bodies had now turned to ashes, apart from 15 or so at the periphery of the main fire. The remaining corpses lying at the roadside were now beginning to give off a terrible smell, probably from the internal organs which lay scattered amongst them. There were fewer birds than before but the number of small furry bodies had increased dramatically.