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Invasion of the Dead (Book 5): Resolve

Page 12

by Baillie, Owen


  They sat in silence for a time. The heat had slowly left the tank when the latch on the outside squealed and the door swung open, revealing bright, orange light. They all threw a hand up to shield their eyes. Meg complained outright.

  Juliet felt a jolt of fear at seeing Red Bandana standing in the doorway. What if he knew of their escape attempt and had come to punish them? There was a long moment of silence when nobody said anything.

  Red Bandana shrugged. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  “What do you want us to do?” Juliet asked.

  “I figured you were all in need of a good feed, so we prepared something in the rec room for you.” Red Bandana stepped back from the doorway. “Come on.”

  Two things sprang immediately into Juliet’s mind. This was their opportunity for escape… or he was playing at something? The others looked at her. She had to make a quick choice. Either they followed and expect something might happen, or refuse, and the punishment for such might be worse. They had not been out of the tank since Doggie had brought them food. This might be their chance to further develop the plan or even better, escape. She passed the others and followed Red Bandana out the door.

  They walked along the dusty gravel road beside numerous brick buildings towards the rec room. Red Bandana kept glancing back at them, and the other women kept checking with Juliet that this was the right move. Juliet scanned the fence line. The place she remembered wasn’t far, but she was also looking for other opportunities. Was there another opening in the fence, or could they get out through the other side of the property?

  Having Red Bandana with them prevented any real chance of doing more than observing, and she didn’t want to alert him to what they were thinking. If they tried anything and failed, their lives—assuming they survived—would be substantially worse than now. And she didn’t have anything with which she could cut the fence and make a breach for the infected to enter the site.

  As they approached the damaged section of fence, Juliet tried not to stare. A small brick building stood nearby, where two men worked on the broken section. But there was no toolbox on the ground nearby as she had seen earlier. Right before they reached the spot, Red Bandana turned around and looked at her, as if he knew what she was thinking. Juliet felt a cold bolt of terror. She jerked her head the other way and knew she had overdone it. She cursed, looking down, wondering if the whole thing had been a set-up. In the fleeting moment she saw the spot, though, she knew they would need more than their bare hands to make an opening.

  They reached the recreation room. Red Bandana stopped outside the closed doors and waited until they all gathered.

  “Now,” he began. “I can't promise this every day, but the treatment of these two ladies,” he signalled towards Jessica and Juliet, “was unacceptable, and so this is our way of apologising.”

  Juliet searched for any patronising or condescending tones in his voice or mannerisms. She could not detect any. She wanted to ask why the hell they were being held at all, but this wasn’t the time. She glanced at Jessica, who wore the same stony expression. This was their final chance to either refuse and deal with the consequences of his rejection, or step inside that room and face whatever awaited them. She felt a growing pressure around her torso. For a moment, she wondered whether she could move or talk. The others were looking at her, waiting for the decision. Red Bandana raised his eyebrows, eyes wide with anticipation.

  “Well?”

  “Thanks,” she managed. “We’re looking forward to something different.”

  Red Bandana nodded heavily and smiled then pushed the door open, revealing the dark cool room inside. Juliet stepped in and the others followed.

  They had pulled two smaller square tables together to form one longer rectangle table and laid a tablecloth across the plastic tops. Paper plates were set down in four locations, plastic cutlery at either side. It was rudimentary, almost like a kid’s party, but nobody could deny they had tried.

  Why go to all the trouble for no reason? Juliet wondered. The voice of cynicism popped up. Was it simply a way of building the women up so they could cut them down again? Perhaps. But in true Juliet fashion, she answered the cynical voice with the same optimistic response. Until it happened, she thought, she would accept what they were trying to do.

  As they took their places at the table, squeezing together, Juliet made several quick glances around the rest of the room, remembering what she had seen the first time. On her right sat a wall full of tools with various styles and designs bolted to a piece of chipboard. She didn’t want to stare for too long, but thought she noticed several tools that might cut the wire on the fence and allow them to open the thing up.

  They ate tinned Sirena tuna in olive oil, with canned corn and sliced beetroot, a tumble of soft-boiled baby potatoes, and somehow, they had bread fresh enough that it seemed just baked. The food was placed on their plate in small clusters, and they did not ask where it came from or question the content; they simply stuffed plastic forkfuls into their mouths in silence.

  Red Bandana stood back and watched with a wide smile on his face. Two other men were also in attendance, picking about the rec room, though one of them left halfway through and then Red Bandana signalled for the other one to follow him, and they left the woman on their own. Juliet stopped eating immediately. She watched the doorway for several moments after they had disappeared then pushed her chair back and stood.

  “What are you doing? Meg asked.

  Juliet brushed past Meg’s chair and went towards the wall of tools. She knew that at any moment, Red Bandana might return to the rec room and find her perusing the wall of dangerous objects. But this was their chance. She had to risk it. If they didn’t find a tool capable of cutting the wire, the plan would not work.

  Meg stood. “Juliet? Don’t do this. You’ll get us caught and ruin our damn dinner. It’s the first good food we’ve had in a week.” Juliet ignored her. Meg sat down again. “It’s a stupid idea, anyway.”

  Juliet turned. “If you’ve got any better ideas, Meg, feel free to tell us. All I’ve heard from you over the last few days are complaints. Don’t you get sick of hearing yourself?” Meg lowered her eyes, her face flushed. “Now let me pick something.”

  Bloody Meg would sabotage the plan before it had even started. She still had to hide the item inside her clothes and get back to her seat before any of the men returned.

  Her first glance at the board had been right. Several pairs were more than suitable for the task. Juliet wanted something with strong blades that could cut thick wire. She reached out for one of the larger ones, but then snatched her hand back when Jess called out.

  “Not those,” Jess said. “The ones on the right.”

  Juliet snatched the wire cutters she had first spotted off the hook and stuffed them into the front pocket of her pants. Then she hurried back towards the table.

  Just as she reached Jessica’s seat, a figure loomed in the doorway. When she glanced over, a coil of fear unravelled in her belly. It was Ponytail, standing with his fists clenched at his side.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Think quickly. Juliet tightened the tips of her fingers on the trapezius muscle between Jessica’s neck and shoulders. “Just giving Jess a massage,” Juliet said, focusing on her work. “Her shoulders are sore.” She looked up at Ponytail sharply. “Probably all that sleeping on the steel floor.”

  Jess leaned her head forward, as though enjoying the fake treatment. “Right there.”

  “That’s enough,” Ponytail snapped. “Sit down.”

  Juliet made a face at him. “You’re a spoilsport, Mr. Ponytail.”

  He observed the feast Red Bandana and the others had set out on the table, then twisted his nose at it and left the building. Juliet let out a huge sigh and slipped into the seat beside Jessica.

  “That was bloody close,” Jessica said.

  Meg added, “You almost got caught. Told you it wasn’t a good idea.”

 
“But I didn’t get caught, Meg. And now we have the tool that will help us get out of here,” Juliet said. Meg looked annoyed, but kept her mouth shut.

  “How soon can we leave?” Lory asked. “I don’t want to be here much longer.”

  “It depends,” Juliet said. “Red Bandana is too strong. While he’s taking us to and from the tank, we can’t risk it. We need someone like Devo who we can overpower. I’m convinced that sooner or later, we’ll get our chance.”

  They shovelled down most of the food until only scraps remained. Shortly after, another man wearing dusty black jeans, a black shirt, and a baseball cap walked in holding a wrench. He’d been working on the other broken section of fence. Sooner or later, Juliet realised, they would repair the area where she planned to pull the fence down. If she didn’t move quickly, they might lose their chance. The man strolled past without even casting a glance their way and ended up at the wall from which Juliet had just taken the tin snips.

  The others turned to her, their faces stiff with worry. Jess looked away, then Lory, but Meg, sitting on the other side of the table, could not take her eyes off the man. Juliet mouthed her name to get her attention and at the same time, signalled for Jess to keep talking. How long before their silence led the man to suspect something was odd?

  “This corn is delicious,” Jessica said.

  Behind them, tools clunked. Meg finally looked away. Juliet eased her breath out. Would he suspect her of taking the missing wire cutters? If he—

  Red Bandana stopped in the doorway. It must have looked comical all the ladies diving into the food at once. Lory began to choke on a fork full of corn kernels.

  “Don't choke to death,” Red Bandana said, standing with his hands on his hips. Lory put up a hand and hurriedly took a glass of water.

  “Have you seen the wire cutters?” the man asked Red Bandana.

  There was a long silence as he considered the question. Juliet slowed her eating, glancing at Jess, who had her head down, but eyes angled up at Red Bandana.

  Finally, he said, “No. I don't know. Check with Angelo.” Red Bandana crossed paths with the man as he left the rec room and stopped at the table. “How is it, ladies?” They all managed some form of a smile.

  “Very good,” Juliet said. “Thank you.” She held his gaze for a moment, then he turned away.

  “Excellent. If you’re all finished then, I’ll escort you back to the tank.”

  The words climbed up Juliet’s throat. She couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was worth one more try. “Why can’t you just let us go? There is obviously some good in you. This is wrong. Why not open up the gates and let us leave?”

  There was a long, terrible silence. They all stared at Red Bandana.

  With his mouth in a grim line, Red Bandana said, “It’s not safe right now. But I’m working on it. Be patient.”

  He turned and headed for the door and left the rec room without looking back. The look on his face told Juliet it would be a good idea to follow. Juliet pushed her seat back. Jessica and Lory did the same.

  Meg did not move. “But I’m not finished,” she said with a look of annoyance.

  “Move,” Juliet said. “One of these days, Meg, your mouth is going to get you in trouble.”

  Meg reluctantly stood, pushing her chair back and knocking it over. Alone, Red Bandana led them back to the tank. If it had been anyone else, Juliet may have asked for a toilet break and tried the escape plan. She was sure he had a pistol tucked into the back of his jeans, and if the plan didn’t come off, any goodwill he felt towards them now would be lost and the remaining time they spent there would be intolerable. She would save the attempt for later, when they managed to secure a toilet break with one of the others; if luck was with them, it would be someone like Devo.

  When they passed the broken section of fence, Juliet got another look from a different angle. The corner had separated halfway down the post. If she could cut the rest of the wire, she felt certain it would come away; they could peel back the other section and create a wide enough opening for the infected to enter the site. There would be risk, but they’d have to deal with it. The idea filled her with hope.

  They reached the tank, and Red Bandana held the door open. Juliet applied a tactic she had held in her back pocket until now.

  She stopped in front of Red Bandana. “We didn’t use the toilet.”

  He cast a suspicious glance from one to the other. “Who needs to go?”

  Juliet was about to speak when the crunching sound of shoes on gravel sounded. A man in a red t-shirt and black jeans jogged towards them. “Hey, we’ve got a problem at the main gate.”

  Red Bandana scrunched up his face. “Take care of it for me, will you, Barry?”

  Barry shook his head. “They need you. This one’s too big for any of us.”

  “Shit,” Red Bandana said. He turned to Juliet. “I’m sorry. I’ll send someone back soon.”

  They went inside the tank and Red Bandana locked the door. When the squelching sound of their shoes on the gravel had died away, Juliet turned back from the doorway to find an angry Meg.

  “Why didn’t we make a break for it?” she snapped. “You got your silly tool.”

  Juliet stiffened. “I don’t want to stuff this up. I don’t think it’s a good idea to do it when Red Bandana is with us.”

  “Why? Do you feel sorry for him?”

  “No,” she snapped. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Look,” Jessica said. “I agree with Juliet. There’s no point risking his protection. We should wait until somebody else chaperones us.”

  “Well, that might not happen because it looks like, for now, he likes us.”

  And that was Juliet’s biggest worry. What if he kept them around for that reason?

  18

  January 11, 2014

  6:30 pm

  Latrobe, Tasmania

  Leroy punched the steering wheel with the back of both fists. “Fuck. Fuck it.”

  He took the baseball bat off the passenger seat, opened the driver’s door, and climbed out of the car, defying the logic of his father’s voice in his head. This time, his mother’s had won.

  He closed the door and gripped the baseball bat in both hands as the infected staggered the final ten feet to the car. These were new arrivals, the ones he had first seen wandering down the middle of the street from afar.

  Heart rate climbing, he clubbed the first in the side of the skull and it fell sideways, striking its head on the road like the sound of two bowling balls clunking. He gave the second a whack in the stomach. It doubled over and Leroy brought the bat down like an axe on its neck, and the thing landed headfirst at his feet. He wasn’t into making a mess; blood and guts and gore had never been something he could handle. As long as he put them down enough to stop them coming back, that was enough for Leroy.

  He stepped around the bodies and started towards the man, who was still in trouble, still hobbling backwards, fists swinging, trying to avoid their groping fingers and losing balance without falling over. It was clear he didn’t have the confidence to turn and make a run for it without them catching him. He’d spend his final minutes limping in circles trying to avoid the infected until he fell over or gave up.

  From behind, Leroy picked his first target and approached a woman in tight jeans and a blue vest, her thin arms like the cardboard tubes inside wrapping paper. As if sensing his approach, she turned and hissed at him as he raised the baseball bat. He tightened his hands around the bat and gave the swing all he had. But she tripped, moving out of line and the bat only glanced her shoulder. To his surprise, Leroy lost balance and stumbled forward. She lunged for him with surprising agility, and he had to correct his footing.

  “Fucker,” he said.

  This wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. As he spun away from her, Leroy thought about running again, but the man had gone down and Leroy’s mother’s voice won out a second time. He danced around two different infected that had arrived from a shopfron
t and clobbered the thing standing over the man. Then Leroy reached out, took the man’s thick hand, and heaved, feeling strain on his shoulder.

  “Thanks,” the man grunted. “Look out.”

  Leroy spun to find three infected converging on him. He swung the stick and twisted away, almost tripping over the gutter. He was off balance as he turned back to face them, trying to fend them off with the bat. A fourth infected had come from somewhere, and he realised they were surrounded. How had it escalated so quickly? He stepped backwards and his heel thumped the gutter, stealing the last of his balance. Leroy fell onto the concrete, striking his right elbow. His weapon clanked free.

  He glanced up and saw the man fending off three disfigured and bloody attackers. Where was the baseball bat? He felt around for it, scratching for grip with his shoes, but then something grabbed his leg, tight hands around his calf. He kicked hard and gained momentary freedom, before a second and third hand took hold. He thrashed and may have screamed. Legs surrounded him. Panic began to take over; his worst nightmare was coming true.

  A gruesome woman knelt beside him and put her face near his back. He threw an elbow. Her head rocked back, but she tried again as though his strike was meaningless. He rolled over and shoved her aside. He tried to sit up but couldn’t get past his weak abdominal muscles. Leroy turned over onto all fours.

  A huge weight fell on his lower body, and he smacked into the concrete. There were two of them on him now—the skinny-armed woman he had struck in the shoulder and a huge Maori man with tribal tattoos on his arms. No chance Leroy would ever be able to move him. He lay face down as they scratched at his arms and legs, the hot bitumen scalding his face. He was done. His heart thumped, and he couldn’t get any breath into his lungs. His arms and legs felt like sandbags. He tried one last time to crawl away, but the effort required was beyond his capacity.

  Once again, the world had served him a big slice of unlucky. He did not understand how he had gone from sitting in his car ready to leave, to the beginning of his death. He gasped for air. He knew how it would go from here; they would bite him and then he’d get sick and end up pale-skinned and covered in sores. Maybe he should just let them kill him, if he didn’t suffocate first.

 

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