by G G Garcia
“Now what?” Tony moaned, clasping onto his tyre iron with a sweaty hand.
Paul hunched his shoulders. “The village, I guess. We’ll check out the garage first, though.”
They both treaded carefully as their feet hit the forecourt. They could see that there was a shop, eight pumps, and a place to wash the cars and blow up the tyres. By most garage standards, it was a small one, but the men could see through the large glass windows and that the products inside had hardly been touched.
A smile stretched over the features over both men, and Paul gave Tony a playful nudge. “Looks like our luck is in.”
Paul walked ahead of his friend and stopped and announced, “We might not need to go into the village.”
Tony walked over to Paul and stopped by his side. They both looked and could see that at the side of the garage was a red pickup.
“I wonder if that belongs to whoever was working here,” said Tony.
“Well, if it does,” Paul remarked. “They might still be inside.”
“Let’s check out the vehicle first.”
Paul, holding the steak knife, and Tony, gripping the tyre iron, walked towards the pickup with hesitant feet. They peered in the back and could see it was immaculate. The front of the vehicle was then checked by both men, and both could see that it was empty. Paul tried the door, but the vehicle wouldn’t open.
A noise was then heard to the side of them, and Paul and Tony scowled at one another in confusion. The banging continued and then stopped after a couple of seconds. Both men walked to the front, back onto the forecourt, and stared through the glass. They could see the counter at the left side and aisles of products that restricted their view. They couldn’t see anyone, but there was now some blood on the window, slowly running down the pane.
Tony was clearly nervous, but he nodded to the garage and asked Paul if he wanted to try inside.
“What?” Tony glared at Paul, wondering if he was joking or not. “Are you serious, man? One of those IOs might be there.”
“Exactly.” Paul nodded. “And they might be the owner of that pickup, meanin’ that they might have the keys on them.”
“Fuck it.” Tony was aware that Paul was the most experienced when it came to killing the infected ones, but he needed to man up and he also had the tyre iron.
He tried the door and gulped when it opened. With Paul closely behind him, he crept down the aisle and reached the counter, unsure what was behind the other aisles.
Paul and Tony could hear a grunting from the end aisle. They both looked at one another and Paul nodded at Tony. Side by side, they walked by the counter, and passed two aisles, reluctant to look down the final and third one, where the grunting was coming from.
Tony felt the fear running through his body like the chill of an icy wind, and this was noticed by his friend. Paul placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder and walked in front of his friend.
Tony grabbed Paul and shook his head at him, as if to say: ‘I’ve got this.’
Tony stood at the end of the aisle, and Paul was behind him. They could see a male. He had his back to them and was wearing denim dungarees, heavy boots, and was wearing a baseball cap. Probably a farmer, they thought.
Tony was about to whistle, to get his attention, but the male slowly turned around anyway.
Paul whispered in Tony’s ear, “Do ya think it’s infected?”
They both clocked its face and the male growled, his eyes bloodshot.
“Looks like it, man,” Tony groaned.
The male in the denim dungarees ran at the two men. Tony brought the tyre iron back, released a cry, shut his eyes, and took a swipe. The metal hit the IO at the side of the head, and the male fell to the side and went crashing into shelves of confectionery and then collapsed to the floor.
Tony was panting, and both young men gawped at the male that was on the floor. The IO was face down and blood began to run out at the side of his head and crawled along the floor.
“He’s still alive,” Paul said. “You need to get your first one out of the way.”
“First one?” Tony snapped. “I ran one over in your car yesterday.”
“Doesn’t count. And neither does bashin’ a dog’s brains in with a fire extinguisher.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
Tony bent down, paranoid that it would somehow get up and attack him, and took his steak knife out of his pocket. He didn't want to hit the man again, because of the mess, so he drove his knife into his back and screwed his face in disgust as he pulled out the bloody blade. He wiped the blade on the dead man’s dungarees and announced to his friend that he felt sick.
“Ya get used to it,” Paul said. “Trust me.”
“I don’t wanna get used to it.”
“Ya might not have a choice.”
Tony went on his knees and placed his tyre iron on the dead man’s back and put the blade back in his pocket. He patted the dead man’s side and put his hands in his pockets. He pulled his hands out and smiled, shaking a set of keys in his right hand.
He had the keys to the pickup.
Chapter Eight
The black Audi with the H3NRY 1 license plate made the short journey to Power Station Road. Their destination was the supermarket. Fortunately, the journey was all country lanes until they reached the industrial estate of Power Station Road, and going into the town of Rugeley wasn’t necessary, which meant the guys didn’t need to drive through populated areas. Populated areas, they thought. This probably meant more of a chance of coming across more IOs.
Henry kept the vehicle at a steady thirty, and both men clocked the businesses on either side. Not a soul could be seen, and usually on a Monday the area would be rammed with people, cars, and delivery trucks.
As soon as they went by the JCB warehouse on their left and under the bridge, they could see the back of the supermarket. The old Power Station with its huge and menacing cooling towers were to the guy’s left, and once they went by the roundabout, passing a hotel and a McDonalds, the car entered the car park of the Tesco supermarket.
The car was stopped and both men gazed at one another in shock.
“Did you bring your gun?” Henry asked Maxwell.
“Of course,” Maxwell answered.
“Tremendous. I have mine. We might need them.”
They both stared out of the windscreen and could see that the car park was awash with vehicles and panic filled individuals. There were around seventy cars on the car park. Some were stationary, a few were just arriving and pulling in, and others were reversing out, ready to leave, almost hitting other people who were on foot. It was mayhem, and Maxwell and Henry were unsure whether to go in or not. Was it worth the risk?
“Looks fucking mental,” Maxwell spoke up, pointing at three men, twenty yards away, fighting over a gallon of water. Shouting, screams, and screeching tyres filled the air, and Henry wasn’t sure if he could get his precious car to the front of the supermarket’s doors without it getting damaged in any way.
“So, what are we going to do?” Maxwell asked. “Are we going in or not?”
“Sure,” Henry sighed and went inside his vehicle. Maxwell also got in. “But I swear, if anyone marks my vehicle, they’ll be getting a bullet. Already killed two of the fuckers when I was giving Demi a ride back to our place.”
“They were Savs, though, weren’t they?”
“They were still human.”
Henry put his keys into the ignition, but never twisted the key. He gazed out of the windscreen and looked at the horrendous melee. The three guys were still fighting, filled trolleys were being emptied into the back of cars, two women were viciously arguing yards away to their right, and a child stood on his own, crying. The child was no older than seven, and Maxwell gasped when a Black Subaru jeep reversed out of its parking space and hit a female teenager. The whole vehicle went over the poor girl’s body, and a middle-aged woman ten yards away went running over and started screaming. Henry assumed that the woman was the moth
er of the now dead girl, and shook his head at the chaos.
Was it worth going in there? he thought.
Would there be anything left? Should they try somewhere else, but would it be the same wherever they went?
Maxwell cleared his throat and said, “Shall we?”
“I’m not sure,” said Henry. “I know we’re armed, but these people are desperate. We could bump into some trouble.”
“I think we should give it a go, while there’s still supplies available.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Henry sighed. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.”
Henry fired the engine and the vehicle began to move.
Chapter Nine
Paul and Tony had spent twenty minutes filling the back of the pickup with bottles of water, sodas, crisps, and other confectionery goods. They were aware that a pickup full of products could make them a target from desperate survivors that were out there on foot, but they had no sheet or any other kind of cover to put over the goods that were in the back.
They entered the pickup and Paul drove away. Not one of them had their seatbelts on, and the vehicle was on the Wolseley Road. In order to get back to their hometown, they needed to go by the pub and onto the Rugeley Road to make the two-mile journey back.
The pickup was approaching the Wolseley Bridge and part of the pub could be seen to their right. Another minute and they would be by the establishment and on their way home.
“If ya wanna change ya mind, say it now,” Paul said to his passenger.
Tony shook his head. “Just keep driving, man.”
The vehicle went over the bridge, with the River Trent underneath them, and Paul slammed his foot down hard once the Rugeley Road straightened up.
Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Paul made the vehicle reach nearly seventy in a forty zone, and was in two minds whether to buckle up.
Before Tony had a chance to open his mouth, Paul clocked the speedometer and took his foot off the accelerator, bringing the pickup down to fifty.
“What the...?”
Paul never managed to finish his sentence and slowed the vehicle down. He pulled up alongside an abandoned car and could see that it was a Corsa.
It was his car. It was Carol.
Both men looked in front and behind them, before stepping out of the vehicle, and could see that there was no one inside it. To either side of them were fields and not a soul could be seen, so they felt reasonably safe. However, they were aware that that could change once they entered their hometown.
Paul sat inside the vehicle and caressed it like it was an old flame. There was no key in the ignition and also no sign of blood inside, so where was Craig and what happened to him? He leaned over and opened his passenger glove compartment to see that it was the same as he had left it. There were hankies in there, a packet of sweets, and an old Shed Seven CD.
Paul sat back in his driver’s seat and grabbed the steering wheel, a smile stretching across his face.
“So what the fuck happened to Craig?” Tony asked from outside of the car.
Paul shrugged his shoulders. “Why did he take the keys with him when he left the car?”
Tony wasn’t sure and guessed, “Maybe he was planning on coming back.”
Paul pushed out his bottom lip and nodded. “Ya may have a point.”
Tony looked up and his eyes widened with shock. He then slapped Paul’s shoulder and said, “Paul. I know it’s your car and you’re quite attached to it, but we need to get the fuck out of here, man.”
“Wit’s the rush?”
“I’ll show you five reasons.”
Paul stepped out of the Corsa, and could see down the road that there were five individuals making their way towards them. The five were a fair distance away, all walking, and it was unclear if they were infected or not.
“They could be just survivors,” Paul said calmly.
Tony nodded and began to crack his knuckles. “Maybe they’re human. Once they spot us they might think we’re the ones that are infected.”
“We’re driving a car,” Paul scoffed. “Why would they think that we’re infected?”
“Um…” Tony couldn’t give his friend an answer.
“I wonder if the infected ever attack each other.”
“Never seen it myself.”
“Me neither.”
“But if they’re still human, maybe they can.”
“Nah.” Paul had changed his mind all of a sudden. “If ya infected, then ya tainted meat. I think they somehow know that.”
“So now what?” Tony asked Paul.
“We get in the car and drive to Rugeley.”
Tony rubbed his head and looked down the road, at the five individuals that were strolling in the middle of the road. He said, “What are you gonna do, man? Drive through them?”
“If it needs to be done.” Paul got into the pickup and Tony followed suit. “If they’re human, they’ll move out of the way. If they’re infected, which I think they are, then they won’t move and they’ll just run at us with no fear.”
Paul fired the engine, told Tony to put his belt on, and slipped it into first gear. He went through the gears quickly and the five individuals were not for moving. The pickup got closer and once they were only three car lengths from impact, both men could just about see the bright redness in some of the individual’s eyes.
Paul and Tony took in a breath and leaned back in their seats, bracing themselves for a bloody impact.
Chapter Ten
Amazingly, there were still trolleys left. Some were scattered across the car park, and others were pushed together. Maxwell and Henry left the car, both with their Glocks tucked in the front of their jeans. They grabbed a trolley each, exchanging no words, and entered the supermarket, trying to avoid people that got in the way. The place wasn’t so busy inside, compared to what was happening outside.
“Bottles of water first,” Henry spoke up, leading the way.
They tried to avoid people crossing their paths, and finally reached Aisle 12 and could see the aisle had water bottles, sodas, and sparkling waters. Surprisingly, there were still bottles left, and Maxwell and Henry had managed to fill the trolleys with no hassle from the dozens of people going by them. Both men were tooled up and were glad that they, so far, didn’t need to whip out their handguns and threaten individuals ... or worse.
Once the trolleys had been filled, they made their way back to the car and agreed to grab food, mainly tins, on the second trip. Once they stepped back outside, they tried to ignore the chaos around them, and filled the boot of the car with the bottles. Maxwell had put the last of his bottles in the boot, and a man carrying a bat approached the two of them. He had blonde curly hair, tall, and had a manic look on his face. He looked desperate. A few days ago he was probably a normal guy, with a nine to five job, but now he was a man on the edge, probably just doing what he was doing for his family.
“Can I help you, friend?” Henry asked the man.
“Yeah, ye fuckin’ can!” he snapped, obviously not recognising the pair of them who had a reputation in the area. “Ye can give me that fuckin’ car and I won’t break ye legs, ye pair of cunts!”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Maxwell laughed. “So fuck off.”
The man brought the bat back and said, “Last fuckin’ chance, twats!”
“And this is yours.” Henry pulled his shirt up, revealing the gun. “Now piss off.”
“That’s not a real gun,” the man laughed.
“Yes, it is,” Maxwell sighed and pulled out his own, chambered a round, and then pointed the gun at the man’s foot, pulling the trigger.
The bullet smashed through the man’s foot, making nearby people scream and flee the area, and the man himself fell to the floor, screaming, and holding his foot with his two hands. Maxwell pointed the gun at the man’s face, forcing the man to get up and hobble away, yelling as he was moving.
“Was that really necessary, eh?” Henry sighed at
his friend.
“He got the message, didn’t he?” Maxwell tucked the gun back into his jeans and said to Henry, “Right, ready for the second run?”
The two men re-entered the supermarket and headed for the tin section, Aisle 5. There wasn’t much left, and as other people ran by and passed Henry and Maxwell with trolleys full of booze, no one seemed to be at the tin section. Both men couldn’t believe people were stealing booze at a time like this. Maybe they thought that this was going to be a short-lived disaster and should reap the benefits of a couple of days of chaos by looting the place.
Once Henry and Maxwell’s trolleys were full of tins of soup, beans and ravioli, they headed for the Audi and began to throw the tins in the back of the car and on the passenger seats. Once the trolleys were empty, they could see there was still some room left for more.
“Another trip?” Maxwell asked.
“Might as well.” Henry nodded and said, “We have three mouths to feed. Probably need to get some buckets and toilet roll.”
“What?”
“The toilet stopped working this morning.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
“Tell me about it.”
The third run was a little more hazardous than the other two. After they collected more tins, they went to an aisle where some household equipment was present.
An irate man confronted Henry and Maxwell because they were taking the last of the toilet roll. He grabbed Henry by the shirt and Maxwell knocked the guy out with the handle of his Glock.
“This is the last one!” Maxwell yelled, and grabbed his full trolley and headed for the exit. Henry was a few yards behind him.
As they headed for the Audi, screams could be heard from behind the two men. They stopped walking and looked behind them. Three men were on top of a woman, and then they saw one of the men bite into the woman’s neck. Then screams could be heard to their right and a female had a hold of a girl, no older than twelve, and was tearing her face off with her teeth, whilst the girl’s mother, they presumed, was screaming and hitting the attacker across the back of the head.
