by West, Mark
Victoria looks at the knife. It would be so easy for her to pick it up and stab him right now. Perhaps she will if his story doesn’t stack up.
She raises her eyebrow. ‘Well?’
His shoulders relax.
‘I ran into the group a few months back. I was alone, hungry. They were the first people I’d seen for months … since my brother died climbing a tree.’
‘A tree?’
‘Yeah. Sounds stupid. We were running from the munchers.’
‘The Infected?’
‘Yeah. Whatever. We hid up a tree, but they hung around for hours. We must have fallen asleep and, well, he fell out.’
‘And died.’
‘Broke his neck.’ His hand goes up to his neck at the memory. ‘It was rough. The guys took me in. I had no idea about the whole human eating thing. They had animals then, lots of them. It’s only the last few months they moved on to the “live meat” category.’
Victoria shivers at the thought of Imelda and her leg.
‘Why didn’t you leave?’ she asks.
‘I had nowhere to go. If I left, I was sure to die.’
Victoria can hear the pain in his voice. He seems trustworthy, but he still hadn’t answered her question.
‘The sausages YOU fed me,’ Victoria says angrily. ‘She said it was her leg.’
Travis looks away. ‘I’m sorry. I should have said something.’
Bile rises from Victoria’s stomach.
‘Who was she?’
‘Who? The woman?’
‘Yeah.’
He shrugs. ‘They picked her up before I came. Said they killed her husband soon after. Ate him no doubt.’
‘Why are they doing this? They have animals; I saw them.’
‘But, like I said, not many. Besides, they got the taste for human. They’re as bad as the munch—, the Infected. Look, I didn’t ask questions. Just avoided the meat. The place is packed with tinned food and stuff.’
‘Last question.’
Travis nods. ‘What?’
‘Why me? Why not the other people? Why not Imelda?’
Travis shrugs. ‘I can’t answer that. Perhaps I’d had enough. Perhaps the timing was right.’
A hand slams against the windscreen. Victoria turns in fright to see an Infected’s face up against her window, its bulging eyes yellow. It licks the glass, streaking it with green saliva.
‘Shit!’ Travis sits back in his seat and pushes the gear stick into first. ‘We need to get out of here.’
Victoria keeps a close eye on the Infected. ‘I know a place we can go.’
‘Where?’
‘Hopefully, not too far away.’ she says, not knowing where the hell they are.
‘So?’
‘Home.’
Chapter 62
The Olson family
There is a knock on the roof of the car and I open my eyes to see Amy looking in through my open window and shaking her head. I must have been asleep. I give her a, whoops, expression before noticing the three people standing behind her: two men and a woman, all carrying rifles.
I sit bolt upright in my seat and reach for my knife, but Amy waves it away.
‘You can get out, Jackson. It’s okay.’
I peer in my mirror to see Isabelle rocking in her seat, awake and surely hungry, and wonder how long I was out for.
Amy has taken a step back from the Range. She doesn’t seem to be in any kind of distress, so I trust her judgement and hop out, leaving Isabelle behind in case I need to fight.
‘Who’s this?’ I ask, turning to the strangers. I keep my hand close to my knife.
Amy gestures to the trio with an open palm. ‘This is the Olson Family. This here is Meg.’
The first thing I notice about the woman is her size. She is big, taller than me, possibly six foot four, and plump with short curly hair. Her smile seems friendly enough, so I acknowledge her with a nod. I turn back to Amy.
Amy points to the man on her right. ‘This is her husband, Cameron.’
I take in the large man. He is about the same size as Meg, with thick, hairy forearms and a head balder than a basketball. He gives me a curt nod. The lines on his face suggest he has endured a hard life. I nod back.
‘And this is Simon, their son,’ Amy says, pointing to a younger man.
Simon reminds me of Grimace the hamburger. He is the shortest of the three, about six foot, and overweight, with not an ounce of muscle on his body. He looks lazy and stupid, judging by the way he is playing with his gun like it’s a toy. He rolls his eyes at me, apparently bored with the whole situation. I don’t bother greeting him.
I give Amy another questioning look. I still trust no one. Why is she introducing me to this family like we are all friends?
‘This family is allowing us to rest for a few days,’ she says in a blunt tone. ‘They may help us find Victoria.’ She points down the road. ‘They live in the complex, along with a few other families.’
‘Families?’
‘That’s correct.’ Cameron’s voice is gruff. ‘We are a community – survivors.’
His last word strikes me unexpectedly.
‘How many?’
‘Thirteen, including us. We had more, but the crazies got them.’
Isabelle begins screaming. I see Meg trying to peer over my shoulder, her smile widening.
‘Is that your little one?’ she asks softly.
I look at Amy again, needing reassurance that we can trust them. She gives me a wink.
I turn back to Meg. ‘Yeah, my daughter, Isabelle.’
Meg’s face lights up. I have to stop myself from smiling back. Emotions are a sign of weakness.
‘How old?’ she asks, taking a step towards the car. I block her path, careful not to offend the one with the gun.
‘Five months. Six in a few weeks if my calculations are correct.’
Meg frowns. ‘Are you telling me she—?’
‘Born after the infection.’ My blood tingles.
I am the infection.
Amy is watching me like a hawk. I can feel her pressing for my secret. I bet the moment we are alone she will want answers. I just need to think of what or how I’m going to tell her.
‘Well thank our lucky stars,’ Cameron chirps. ‘There is hope for us all.’ He places his rifle under his arm and holds out a hand. It is mammoth. ‘What do you say then? Will you join us?’
The Infected are out to get me – us now – and we currently have no shelter and little food. It won’t be long until they find us at this rate.
I grip the rough, calloused hand. ‘Show me the way.’
Chapter 63
The complex
It’s mid-afternoon. The sun is low, and Isabelle is with Amy in one of the four houses. I’m with Cameron who insists on taking me on a tour of the complex. It’s his way of getting to know me. I don’t blame him; I’d do the same.
Cameron explains there are four families currently living here: thirteen people in total, including the Olson family. He rattles them off.
‘There’s the Murdocks, Janice, her husband Jim and their twin fifteen-year-old daughters, Lilly and Ira. The Singer family, Raymond and Margaret and their son, John, who is thirteen. Finally, there are the Holts. Macy is a single mother with two adult kids, Ryan and Isabella, both in their mid-twenties.’
‘That’s a lot of survivors.’ I follow Cameron along the road that weaves past the houses.
‘Indeed. We’ve done well over the past year.’
As we move through the complex, Cameron points out the vegetable gardens and fruit trees, some chickens and goats and their electricity supply, which consists of dozens of solar panels resting on top of a large community hall. He also notes the place has running water from tanks and enough fuel to supply them for two years if it doesn’t go bad. I’m impressed, but sceptical. It won’t last forever and wonder if he has a plan B.
‘Any attacks?’ I ask, examining the wall surrounding the place.
&nb
sp; ‘Some, but not many. We deal with the crazies as best as we can.’ He pats the gun slung over his shoulder. It looks like a toy against his burly back. ‘Shoot a few. We decapitate most. I’m sure you know how it goes.’
I nod. ‘I call them the Infected.’
‘Sounds about right. I guess people will have their name for them.’ He indicates the hall. ‘Follow me. I want to show you inside.’
I follow him in silence. We stop at a set of glass doors. The community hall is a large brick building. It looks new and well maintained, like the rest of the complex.
Cameron gives me a stern look. ‘You won’t be causing any trouble while you’re here?’
I shake my head, keeping calm as he examines me closely. He could snap me like a twig, yet I’m sure I would put up a good fight first.
‘No trouble. Just need a few days to rest. When I find my wife, I’ll move on.’
Cameron maintains his frown for a moment then breaks into a smile again. Damn, he has big teeth.
‘Good man.’ He slaps me unexpectedly on my back. It feels like a punch from a giant. He gestures for me to go inside. ‘Guests first.’
I grimace and step inside. It feels as if he has left a handprint on my back.
The hall is mostly open space, with two long tables in one corner of the room and overhead are low-hanging ceiling lights. There is a door next to a servery, and Cameron explains that the kitchen is back there. They gather in the hall to eat as a community and that is where they cook most of their meals.
‘It’s best we eat together every day. That way, there are no squabbles about food.’
Cameron gestures for me to go with him into the kitchen, and he shows me their supplies. I am amazed by his trust.
‘Damn, you have a lot of food,’ I say, taking in the rows of shelves stocked with all kinds of goods, from tins to bags of flour.
‘Wait … Is that beer?’
Cameron chuckles. ‘Yep. However, I’d say it’s a little past its best.’
I ogle it, envious. ‘You have it all sorted, don’t you?’
‘We try.’
As we leave the building, I start to tell Cameron about the Block. He listens intently, only interrupting to show me the septic system, which is fully functional, however only for the hall. The toilets in the houses are out of order until they work out a way to get them operating again.
‘That’s rough son,’ he says, when I tell him of our last moments at the Block. ‘And you lost every one of them?’
‘Except Amy, as you know, and my wife, if we ever find her.’ I hold back from telling him about Lincoln now being an Infected. If they knew we are being hunted, we would be out the door in seconds.
‘I guess you can understand my concerns when I meet new people,’ he says.
‘I guess I can.’
A man up the road has just come out of his garage. He waves us over.
‘That’s Jim,’ Cameron tells me. ‘Let’s say, hello.’
We walk over to Jim, who shakes Cameron’s hand. ‘Hello, Cameron.’ He looks at me suspiciously. ‘Who’s this?’
‘This here is Mr Jackson Kidd. His friend and daughter are staying in the Jones’ old house for a few days, recouping before heading off.’
I hold out my hand to the skinny, bony-faced man with neatly parted hair. My guess is he worked in IT or something before the world ended. Yet I could be wrong, he could have been an assassin. Appearances can be deceiving.
He looks at my hand as if it’s diseased and doesn’t shake it. I don’t blame him; it technically is.
He turns to Cameron. ‘You just letting anyone in now?’
‘I’m right here, buddy,’ I grunt. I won’t be made to look stupid.
Jim glares at me. ‘No offence.’ He turns back to Cameron. ‘I thought we discussed this? Or does that not mean anything anymore?’
Cameron lays a hand on Jim’s shoulder like Bane from Batman. Jim seems nervous. ‘Calm yourself, Jim. They have a child.’
‘Okay, but …’ His voice goes all tinny. ‘I’m just—’
‘Perfect then. All settled.’ Cameron taps him lightly on the face and pushes past. ‘Come on, Mr Kidd. Lots to show.’
I give Jim a wink. He glares furiously at me, lips compressed. I shove past him and continue up the road. I have no time for people like that.
‘That guy is a pain in my arse,’ Cameron explains. ‘Always has been and always will.’ He looks at me and rolls his eyes. ‘Head of the body corporate. A nerd to say the least. He has nothing better to do than complain and try and ride my back. Too bad he isn’t like his lovely wife and twin girls.’
I shrug. ‘I guess everyone tries to find a place.’
Cameron points towards the back of the complex.
‘We usually have one guy on watch day and night. They patrol the internal borders of the wall and swap out every six hours. Job sucks to say the least.’
‘Always happy to pay my way and kick in.’
Cameron slaps me on the shoulder again. This time I brace for the impact. But, damn, it still hurts.
‘Good man. We can use a team player like you.’
‘Yep.’ I wince, and give him an awkward smile.
We spend the next twenty minutes walking about, talking and chatting about the past year. I learn that Cameron is ex-military, Army, and used to be an amateur wrestler. He won three titles in his thirties and one in his mid-forties after making a comeback, but unfortunately broke his leg a year later. He has been with Meg since they were both at school. They struggled to conceive a child. Simon was a surprise, arriving later in life. Cameron doesn’t say it directly, but I get the feeling he’s disappointed at how useless the kid is. I don’t want to offend the man, so tell him one day Simon will grow into a fine young man. Unlikely.
I also discover others have visited the place during the past year, all of whom have since left. Cameron explains that after a couple died back in December, they decided to shut the gates and stay put until help arrives.
‘There is still hope in this world,’ Cameron says, as we pass a small play area.
The play area is no bigger than a tennis court. Jim’s thin, blonde-haired twins are playing on the swings. Janice is standing behind them staring at me, blonde also and surprisingly hot.
‘We need a vaccine, something to rid the world of the infection,’ I say, watching the girls play.
Janice gives me a wink and I turn away, pretending not to have seen. No wonder Jim is so uptight.
‘Who knows, Mr Kidd, who knows.’
Amy is on the front porch waving to us when we get back, Isabelle in her arms.
‘How has she been?’ I ask, taking Isabelle from Amy.
‘Good. Hungry, though.’
‘We’ve got that covered,’ Cameron interjects. ‘There’s plenty of formula in the kitchen. I’ll go grab some.’ He turns and leaves.
Amy raises her eyebrows. ‘Well?’
‘Well, what?’
‘You know what.’
‘Give it a rest.’ I shove past her and go inside.
I place Isabelle on the bed and grab my bag and set of knives from the back room. I slip one on my hip. I removed them earlier so Cameron wouldn’t feel intimidated, although I doubt he would have been. I place the others in the bag and throw in a shirt, pants and a couple of other items.
‘And where the hell are you going?’ Amy asks, blocking the doorway. I try and slip past, but she shifts in front of me.
‘Where do you think?’ I grunt. ‘To find Victoria.’
‘Bullshit you are.’ Amy points to Isabelle. ‘What about her?’
I give Amy a pleading look. ‘Please?’
She reluctantly steps aside. I go through the main room and head for the kitchen. Amy follows and puts Isabelle on the floor as I rummage through the cupboards. I find a small towel and a pair of scissors and stuff them into my bag. I also find a drawer of tools and grab wire cutters and a hammer.
‘How long will you be gone?’ Am
y asks calmly.
She walks over and puts a hand on my arm.
‘I feel for you, Jackson, but we don’t know where she is.’
I stop and face her. I can see the pain in her eyes.
‘I must look for her, I must.’ I feel as if I may shed a tear, but suck it back. ‘What if she returned to the house?’
‘You saw the Infected.’ Amy pauses, considering her words. ‘Or are they only looking for you, Jackson?’
Amy isn’t stupid, but I play dumb – again. ‘What are you saying?’
‘Enough, Jackson. That’s enough!’
Amy lets go of my arm and storms over to Isabelle. Her temper flares to another level. She glances down at Isabelle before turning to face me.
‘This here is what you need to live for now.’ She points at Isabelle who is rocking backwards and forwards on her hands and knees. ‘This, Jackson.’
She stamps back over and glares.
‘Victoria is dead! I came to grips with all of you being dead a long time ago. You need to as well, before it eats away at you. And you need to tell me the truth!’
Her eyes go glassy and tears roll down her cheeks. ‘Please. What is wrong with you? Why is she after us and why the hell is Lincoln here?’
A knock at the door gives me a reprieve. I nod towards the front door. Amy’s eyes don’t stray from me.
‘We need to get that,’ I say.
‘Everything alright in there?’ Cameron calls out, knocking louder this time.
‘Yeah!’ I yell. ‘One minute.’
‘I brought the formula. And there’s someone here who wants to say hello.’
I turn to Amy and look into her red, tear-filled eyes. ‘Three days, Amy. Give me three days. After that I will come back and tell you everything. I promise.’ I give her a quick hug.
Amy gives me a fleeting smile and sniffs. ‘Three days, Jackson. After that I come looking for you. Isabelle too.’
Chapter 64
The Mutation
The scratch on William’s ankle is getting angrier, and the swelling from the sprain is adding to his discomfort. The sun has lowered for the evening, but he still hasn’t told Eden of the scratch, let alone that it may be infectious. He will hold onto that secret until he is sure.