“It’s raining.”
“That’s good – it’s been days since our last shower, and it should clear the smell from the air.”
I went to the bathroom and, returning to the bedroom, put some clothes on.
“I’ll let you feed Sheba today,” said Mary. “Don’t forget to let her out – she’s probably bursting.”
I went downstairs to be greeted by a very excited Sheba, and told her to sit while filling up her feeding bowl. Once placed on the kitchen floor, she attacked it vigorously, emptying it within a minute, giving me just enough time to get the back door open.
“Out you go, girl,” I said.
Sheba hesitated at the doorstep as she saw the raindrops dancing on the small patio area outside. I gave her a push with my foot, strategically placed on her back end, and after turning to look at me as if to say You must be joking, she ventured out into the pouring rain. Once she had finished, she headed back towards the kitchen door, giving it a nudge with her nose to open it, and she walked in. I moved quickly towards the door and shut it behind her, just as Sheba shook herself, sending droplets of water in all directions, mostly over me. Once done, Sheba looked at me before going into the living room, as if to say That’ll teach you for sending me out in the rain.
I then boiled some water for drinks for me, Mary, and my son and daughter-in-law. I had just completed this when Mary came into the kitchen, closely followed by John and Josephine.
“Here is your tea and coffee, people,” I said, indicating the four cups on the kitchen top.
“Doesn’t look like we’ll be doing too much today, Dad,” said John.
“Depends on how long the rain lasts,” commented Mary.
Josephine offered to make some toast while John decided to fire up the generator, allowing us to scan the TV channels. Mary completed her tidying-up routine once Josephine had finished making the toast, while I made us another drink. We all sat in the living room and waited in anticipation while John went through the channels. To our disappointment, nothing new was being broadcast by the BBC, Fox News or even the German channel we had discovered last time.
The rain had eased to a persistent drizzle and as I could not sit around doing nothing all day, I said, “I’m going to see how Miles is getting on. Do you want to come, John?”
“No, Dad. I’m going to check our house defences, so I’ll let you get wet.”
I put on my plastic camouflaged waterproofs and collected the semi-auto shotgun and gun belt, added a few cartridges to my pockets and headed across the road to Miles’s house. I tapped on the door twice and waited, and eventually Maria opened the door.
“Hi Maria – just came over to see how you were getting on,” I said.
“Come in out of the rain, James,” Maria replied.
Miles stood up as I entered the living room.
“Hello, James – it’s good to see someone, to break the monotony,” he said.
“Yeah, I needed to get out and do something too. By the way, still no news on the TV, well nothing new, anyway. I thought you might like to go for a stroll in the rain.”
“Good idea. Let me get my waterproofs on and I’ll be with you,” said Miles, apparently needing no further encouragement. Jeffrey had also entered the room.
“Would you like to come, Jeffrey?” I asked.
“I think I’ll leave this one to you and Dad,” the boy said with a grin.
While I was waiting for Miles I could hear excited voices coming from the kitchen, so I poked my head though the doorway and saw Miles’s two younger children, Martin and Ziggy, together with two of my grandchildren, Elizabeth and Jack. It was nice to see them getting on so well; it appears the human race might have a future after all, I thought. I said hello to them all and returned to the living room.
“You ready, James?” asked Miles.
“Yeah, let’s rock and roll. Sure you don’t want to come, Jeffrey?” I asked again.
“I’m sure,” said Jeffrey.
Miles picked his semi-auto shotgun and added a few more cartridges to his pockets, and we were on our way. The rain had now eased further to a fine drizzle, making the vehicles in our barricade look unusually clean as they glistened under the grey skies. We made our way through the barricade and headed along Connor Way towards the sharp bend. The rain had washed the previously blood-stained pavements clean, giving the impression that things were back to normal. Even the vermin were conspicuous by their absence. Once around the bend, we turned right towards Bill and Rose’s original house. The only sound was the rain falling on our plastic waterproofs and the dancing droplets as they hit the already soaked roads and pavements. Reaching the remains of Bill’s barricade, cautiously looking to our left into the cul-de-sac and right which would lead us back to main part of Connor Way, there was no sign of life of any description, which added to the uncomfortable feel to the day, absent of human voices or activity. Miles and I eventually arrived back at the roadside. Miles was first to break our silence.
“That was quite uneventful – shall we have a look along the main Boreham road?”
“Why not? There isn’t much else we can do today,” I replied.
Reaching the main road, we both looked to our left towards the Six Bells pub, and nothing was moving; then right towards Chelmsford.
“James, look! Someone is crossing the road heading towards the postbox on the left,” said Miles.
I noticed the person just before he or she disappeared through the small gap leading to St Andrews Road. Everything then became still again.
“Shall we see if they’re OK?” I suggested.
“Give us something to do, I suppose,” replied Miles.
The postbox was about 200 yards from us, so we crossed the road and quickened our pace in an attempt to catch the person before he or she got too far away. As we reached the postbox, we slowed and peered cautiously through the gap, but there was no sign of movement. We proceeded through the entrance to the pathway, which had a hedge of conifers growing either side to shield adjacent properties from the public footpath. There was also a road leading off to the right. Great for an ambush, I thought. I tapped Miles on the shoulder and put a finger to my lips. We both lifted our shotguns ready to fire as we reached the end of the hedge. Nothing moved as we covered the few yards to the side turning on our right. There were no human forms in the side turning, either. Miles and I realised that we should have been able to see the person as St Andrews Road continued for another 300 yards in a relatively straight line in front of us. But it was devoid of all life. Instinctively, I turned to look behind us, only to find myself staring into a pair of red-and-black eyes not six feet away.
“Behind us!” I shouted, swinging the shotgun around to engage my intended target.
I only managed to get the gun to point at the infected’s stomach, by which time the end of the barrel had disappeared into his open jacket. I fired from the hip, the recoil from the 3.5-inch magnum nearly taking the shotgun from my grasp. As I involuntarily took a step backwards trying to keep control of the weapon, I could see a bright red one-inch diameter hole in the centre of the infected’s abdomen. As he spun to his left, I saw a six-inch hole in his lower back just to the left of his spine. To our amazement, he appeared to recover and turn back towards us, his face contorted in anger, his eyes open ever wider, the rain making them glisten in the dull grey daylight. The deafening boom of Miles’s shotgun exploded very close to my ear, and I watched the right side of the infected’s head disintegrate into a thousand parts before my eyes. Taking two steps sideways, the infected eventually fell to the ground as the ringing in my ears continued.
“One good thing, James – at least you didn’t shoot him in the goolies this time,” Miles commented with a sly grin.
“Really nice of you to notice that, Miles,” I said.
“I don’t think it would be wise to continue any furth
er without a car or backup,” said Miles.
“I agree, plus the noise from the shotguns might attract a few more. Time to go home.”
We retraced our steps to the main road, even more cautiously than before as we didn’t need any further surprises. We walked the 200 yards back to Connor Way, keeping well away from any bushes or possible hiding place for an infected intending to ambush us.
The rain had increased in intensity as we reached Connor Way. This time we took the shortcut across the green, past the remains of our funeral fire, even though we found ourselves slipping on the wet, muddy grass. Two minutes later, we were negotiating the barricade, and we said goodbye as the rain teemed down even harder.
Maria open Miles’s front door as he approached and I gave her a wave before I went through our side gate.
Entering the kitchen, Mary was waiting for me with a towel in her hand.
“Look at the state of you – and take those boots off before you mess up the kitchen floor!” she said sternly.
“Yes, my love,” I replied, thinking things haven’t changed that much.
After extracting myself from my wet garments, I wiped the surplus water from the shotgun and cleaned the barrel. We had something to eat and a hot drink, courtesy of John and Josephine.
The rest of the day was uneventful. We talked amongst ourselves, John tried the radio a few times, and Mary and Josephine visited our two daughters while John and I tried to find something to do in the house. It kept raining, sometimes very heavily, accompanied by strong, gusting winds for a short period, and then the wind would diminish and the rain would turn into fine drizzle. By 11.00 pm we were all in bed, Mary reading a book for half an hour by candlelight, while I relaxed by listening to the occasional gust of wind and the pitter-patter of rain hitting the bedroom window, which eventually sent me to sleep.
Day Twelve
Friday 23 May 2014
John’s voice woke us.
“Mum, Dad. You getting up? It’s past nine o’clock. Josephine has made you a drink.”
Mary and I looked at each other, still only half-awake.
“Poor Sheba, she must be starving,” said Mary.
She jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I was getting dressed when she returned to put her clothes on. We arrived in the kitchen to find Sheba finishing off her bowl of food. A cup of tea and one of coffee were waiting for us on the kitchen top.
“Nice of you to join us,” said John, as he opened the back door for Sheba to go out.
“Yes, well, I thought we would honour you with our presence, son,” I quipped.
“It’s finally stopped raining,” noted Mary.
“And the sun is shining,” Josephine added. “Does anybody want toast?”
“Yes, please,” I said, while the other two just nodded.
We retired to the living room while Josephine made the toast. Mary and I sat on the sofa, John and Josephine joining us soon afterwards occupying the two armchairs.
“So, what’s the plan today, Dad?” asked John.
“Yes, James, what’s the plan?” Mary repeated.
“We need to set up a meeting to discuss arrangements for tomorrow’s trip to the farm,” I answered.
“Sounds good to me,” said Josephine.
“Well, it’s a nice sunny day, so perhaps we can all meet outside,” suggested Mary.
“OK, I’ll speak to Miles, Lucy and Bill,” I said. “Josephine and John, if you get Ruth and the doctor, Mary can speak to Mat and Linda. I think that’s everybody. What do you all think?”
“We can arrange the meeting for, let’s say, eleven o’clock,” John added.
After finishing our breakfast, by which time it was just gone 10.00 am, we set out on our assigned tasks.
John and Josephine went to Ruth’s house first, while Mary headed for Linda’s and I decided to visit Miles and Maria first. I waved to John and Mary as they entered Ruth’s and Linda’s houses respectively. I then knocked on Miles’s front door.
“Miles, Maria, are you there?” I called.
The front door was open immediately by Maria.
“Hi James, I saw you coming. What’s up?”
“Don’t panic, I’m just trying to arrange a meeting.”
“Oh, you’d better come in.”
Miles was sitting in an armchair with a cup in his hand.
“Hi James. I was thinking of coming to see you about this trip tomorrow,” he said.
“Funny you should say that, because that’s why I’m here,” I replied.
“They say great minds think alike,” joked Miles.
“Mary, John and Josephine have gone to speak to some of the others. We’re trying to arrange a meeting outside in the close for eleven o’clock,” I said.
“That’s fine with me. What do you think, Maria?”
“I’m OK with that. Have you got to speak to anybody else?” asked Maria.
“Yes, I’m tasked with speaking to Bill, Rose and Lucy,” I said, even though I had decided on who I was to inform.
“That’s good. I’ll come with you,” said Maria.
“I’m coming with you too,” added Miles.
We left the house once they had put their shoes on. Maria led the way and knocked on Lucy’s door. It seemed ages before Lucy eventually opened it.
“Hello all – sorry for the delay, bit of trouble with the children,” she said, seeming very pleased to be able to speak to another adult.
“Hi Lucy, the men are trying to arrange a meeting for eleven o’clock this morning to discuss our move to the farm on Saturday and Sunday,” said Maria.
“That’ll be fine. Come in and have a chat.”
“You two go and speak to Bill and Rose, and I’ll stay here,” said Maria.
Lucy’s two children, Margaret and Richard, had followed her and pushed themselves to the front.
“How are you?” I said, trying to involve them in the conversation.
“We’ve been playing. It’s great now there’s no school,” said Richard.
“We’ll have to see what we can do about that, but you’re OK for a little while,” I said, realising that at some point we would have to set up our own schooling if nothing was done by the authorities.
“That’s good – this is like the summer holidays,” commented Margaret.
“Perhaps we’ll see you later, Lucy,” I said.
“See you later,” said Miles. “Let’s speak to Bill and Rose next, James.”
“See you at eleven, Maria,” I said, walking away with Miles.
Miles gave Bill and Rose’s front door a hefty bang, and after a minute or two Bill answered the door.
“Hello James, Miles. What can I do for you?”
“We’re trying to arrange a meeting for eleven o’clock,” said Miles.
“Oh? What about? You’d better come in.”
We followed Bill into the living room, and could hear the rattling of cups in the kitchen as we both took up position on the sofa, Bill occupying one of the armchairs.
A distant voice came from the kitchen.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Rose.
“Yes, please – half a spoon of sugar for me,” I replied, probably a little too quickly.
“Me too,” said Miles.
“And don’t forget your husband,” added Bill. “So, what’s the meeting about?” he asked us.
“The idea is to draw up a plan and timescale for our move to the farm on Saturday and Sunday,” I said.
“And what to take with us,” added Miles, “although of course we may not know that for sure until we get there.”
“You sure you want to do this? I mean, we’ve only just got settled here,” Bill commented.
“The main reason for the move is so we can grow our own food in relative safety,
plus the planting season for most vegetables will soon be over,” I said.
“I see. Well, Rose and I will be there, anyway,” said Bill, without much conviction.
Rose entered the room carrying three cups, and handed one to each of us.
“So, what is this meeting about? I didn’t catch it,” said Rose.
Miles and I repeated what we had told Bill. At first Rose gave a similar reply to her husband, but once we explained our reasons she reluctantly agreed.
Miles and I asked Rose and Bill how they were coping, more out of courtesy than anything else as we could not do much to help. Besides, everybody was basically in the same boat.
“Bill, Rose, see you in about half an hour. I’d better see how the wife is getting on,” I said.
“And I’m going to make sure my children haven’t trashed the house. I dare say my wife is still with Lucy,” Miles said.
Miles and I went back to our own houses. I went through the side gate and entered the kitchen to find Josephine sitting on the chair and John making them a drink.
“Everybody OK for the meeting?” I asked.
“Ruth and Tom are coming and also Kevin and Kate,” Josephine replied.
“Where’s your mum?” I asked.
“Don’t know – she’s not back yet,” replied John.
“I bet she’s still in Linda’s house. I’ll go and get her,” I said.
I went out of the front door, and once outside decided to go to Mat and Sara’s house first to see if they had been invited to the meeting. As I went around to the front of their house, I noticed their front door was ajar.
“Mat, Sara, are you there?” I called out.
“Yes,” replied Mat.
“Is Mary there?” I asked.
Mat pulled the door fully open.
“No. What’s going on, James?” asked Mat. “I saw you and Miles going from house to house.”
“We’re having a meeting at eleven in the close regarding our move to Culver Farm. Your comments would be appreciated,” I replied.
“Sara and I will be there.”
“OK, see you shortly – now to find the wife,” I said.
Infected- The Beginning Page 32