“Don’t be like that. I had to carry Kerry.”
“That was our only weapon, you dumbass!” Jonathan’s voice rose to an angry howl.
“I’m sorry, okay?”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Ry.”
“Yeah, but―”
“How about this?” Kerry interrupted. She produced a folded umbrella from underneath the back seat. The boys stared at her like she’d grown an extra arm until she shrugged. “You can hit the monsters with this, Ryan.”
He choked out a small laugh, ignoring Jonathan’s glare. “Thanks, Kerry.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied with a pleased smile.
Ryan sat back with the umbrella in his hands and examined it. It consisted of flimsy canvas material wrapped around a bar with a plastic handle. Nothing much. When his fingers reached the metal point at the end, he tested the tip. Blunt. “No good.”
Jonathan followed his gaze. “Actually…that could work.”
“Really?” Ryan tried to keep the sarcasm from his voice and failed. “Should I stab them with it?”
“Yeah, stick them in the eye. It’ll do the trick if you go deep enough.”
“You think so?”
“What else are we gonna do?” Jonathan pointed out.
Ryan sighed as he fingered the dull point. It hardly made a weapon, but what choice did they have? “Guess so.”
Jonathan pulled the car to a stop in front of a derelict building. A faint cloud of dust settled around them, a legacy of the dry summer season and windy days. A bland expanse of dry brush surrounded the clearing. As one, they all turned and stared at the shop.
A petrol pump stood to the side on a patch of broken concrete while a faded sign pointed to a set of bathrooms hidden behind rusted metal doors. The fruit and veg store was plain, a simple brick square with a single door and a serving window overshadowed by an awning of bleached canvas.
The place inspired zero confidence in Ryan. He imagined zombies crawling inside its gloomy confines and debated whether or not they should just take their chances on the road.
Kerry tugged at his arm. “I need to pee.”
He smothered a sigh. “Can’t you hold it?”
She shook her head. “No. I haven’t gone since yesterday. Ever since Mom…”
Her eyes welled up with tears, and Ryan hastened to forestall the approaching breakdown. Little as he wanted to get out, she left him no choice. “Okay, okay, you can go, but let me check if it’s safe first.”
“Okay,” she answered in a small voice.
“I’ll go with you,” Jonathan said. “Just let me look in the boot for something to fight those things with. I’m not going in bare-handed.”
Ryan was too relieved not to be going it alone to worry about chickening out anymore. “Thanks.”
They climbed out and slammed the doors shut out of habit. The sound echoed through the warm afternoon air, and Ryan cringed. Immediately, a growl rose from the bushes in answer to his unspoken fears.
“Oh, crap,” Jonathan cried. “Ry, handle it while I look for a weapon. Keep it busy.”
“I…I…” Ryan stood frozen to the spot as his friend ran around to the back and fiddled with the lock on the trunk.
A short distance from him, the leaves on a bush shook and shivered as the zombie pushed its way through the dry grass and foliage. Its face emerged, torn and scratched with congealed blood crusting the wounds. A cloud of stink enveloped Ryan, clogging his nostrils.
The blood in his veins froze, turning to ice. He couldn’t move. The thing’s hands reached for him with broken fingernails. Its eyes fixed on him with single minded determination. Still, his legs refused to move.
“Keep it busy, Ry,” Jonathan called.
Ryan swallowed and took a step back until he hit the car. “I…”
The zombie leaned forward, its lips peeling back over yellowed teeth. He waved the umbrella at it, swatting it like a bothersome fly. “Stay back.”
It ignored him and closed in for the kill.
“Almost there,” Jonathan said.
Ryan knew his friend would never be on time to save him, and he shook with the knowledge that he was about to die.
Suddenly, Kerry screamed and slammed on the window with her fists. “Leave my brother alone!”
He jumped, and a wave of adrenaline washed over him. Ryan raised the umbrella point first, remembering what Jonathan had said. He jabbed it into the zombie’s face, shoving with all his might. The metal sank into the thing’s eye and for a second, resisted his efforts. He pushed harder and watched as the metal pierced the flesh. A squelching sound almost made him retch before the umbrella popped open, fanning out with a whoosh. Fluid spattered across the lime green material.
Ryan danced to the side, holding onto his weapon. It pulled free, and the zombie fell with a thump to lie motionless on the ground. He hardly paid notice to Jonathan as his friend dashed around to his side holding a car jack. Instead, he stared at the corpse, now a grotesque mockery of a human being.
Jonathan slid to a stop, the carjack raised above his head. His mouth dropped open. He stared from Ryan to the dead zombie. “You killed him with the umbrella?”
“Yeah,” Ryan croaked, his tongue dancing across his dry lips.
“Holy crap, I can’t believe it.” Jonathan punched his shoulder. “You did it, man!”
“Yeah.” Ryan couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Let’s check the place out.” Jonathan whirled around and strode toward the stall, entering its shadowy confines through an open door. “In here, Ry.”
After a last look at the body, Ryan turned to follow on numb legs. He closed the umbrella and ducked through the opening, pausing when his vision dimmed after the bright sunlight outside. Cold air swirled across his heated skin. “Jonathan?”
“Over here. Come look,” his friend replied. “There’s tons of stuff here.”
Ryan shuffled forward with cautious steps, his eyes swiveling the entire time. When he reached the other boy’s side, he saw Jonathan stuffing oranges, apples, and pears into a plastic shopping bag. He looked around again, noting that the stall was deserted. Some of the tension left him. Maybe there was only the one.
He picked up another bag and loaded it with bananas and pockets of chestnuts in the shell. A fridge caught his eye, and he stocked up on cold drinks and water. Once the boys had two full bags each, they staggered outside to the car where an impatient Kerry waited.
“What took you so long?” she asked. “I need to go.”
“Hold your horses,” Ryan said. “I haven’t checked the bathrooms yet.”
“Hurry,” she said, jumping up and down on the seat.
“Okay, okay,” he said, turning away.
This time, Jonathan did not accompany him, choosing instead to walk around the building looking for more stuff. It didn’t bother him, though, his confidence bolstered by his earlier victory.
With his fingers curled tightly around the handle of the umbrella, Ryan crossed the ground toward the steel doors that announced it was for ladies.
When he reached it, he hesitated once more. A silent prayer rattled around in his brain. No more zombies, please.
He reached for the handle.
Ryan pushed the door open with a rusty squeak.
A slender figure jumped at him through the gap, fingers curled to grab him. With a cry, Ryan fell onto his back. The zombie fell on top of him, its raspy groan filling his ears. Long black hair fell across his face as it leaned down for a bite of his flesh. In the distance, he heard Kerry’s shrieks, but all his attention was focused on the woman trying to eat him.
She snapped her teeth, growling like a rabid mongrel. The umbrella lay across his chest, and he used it as a shield to keep her at bay. Her hands latched onto his shirt and pulled. Man, she’s strong!
His eyes fixed on her lips, drawn back to expose the canines. The ivory incisors gnashed at the air, coming ever closer. His a
rms trembled, the muscles weakening underneath her onslaught. She would get him, he was sure of it. Just one more centimeter.
Suddenly, her head slewed to the side, and her eyes popped wide open. Above her stood Jonathan, wielding the jack like a baseball bat. Two more blows cracked her skull like a rotten egg. Brain matter splattered across Ryan’s shirt and face. With a final yell, Jonathan kicked her body to the side and offered Ryan a hand.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said with a cheeky grin.
Ryan gulped and allowed Jonathan to help him up. He dusted off his pants, nose wrinkling at the foul-smelling gunk on his clothes. A quick look at the zombie’s smashed skull didn’t help, and he had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting. Not in front of Jonathan.
His friend, meanwhile, had searched the toilet and ascertained it was empty. “It’s safe; she can come out now.”
Ryan nodded and waved at his sister. “Hey, Kerry. Come on.”
She jumped out of the car and ran over, her hair bouncing on her back. Without saying a word, she rushed into the restroom, and a second later a stall door slammed shut.
“Boy, when you gotta go, you gotta go, I guess,” Jonathan said. He waved Ryan inside. “Go clean up, man. You stink.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan mumbled. He pulled off his shirt and rinsed it in the wash basin before wringing it out and slipping it back on. The damp cloth clung to his skin, but he didn’t care. At least, it was cool. As long as the zombie brains are gone, I’m good.
Kerry came out of the stall to wash her hands and face. Her expression was miserable, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “You okay, sis?”
“No.” Her mouth trembled, but to her credit, she didn’t cry. “Mom and Dad are dead, and you almost…you almost…”
“Hey, now, it’s not that bad,” he said even though it was. “We’re still here, aren’t we?”
“I know.” She sniffed and nodded.
“Mom wouldn’t want you to be sad, would she?”
“No.”
He patted her on the back. “So let’s not be sad then.”
“Okay.” She managed a tremulous smile, and he reflected that she was handling the whole situation better than he was.
Ryan led her outside where Jonathan stood waiting, and together they walked to the car. After filling up the tank with petrol, they set off once more.
Once they were on the road, Ryan leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Bloemhof wasn’t far, and he had no idea what awaited them there. Can’t be good, though. Nothing is anymore.
Ryan’s Luck - Chapter 3
When morning broke, Ryan was ready. Ready to take on the zombies and find a safe place for Kerry to live. Determination had taken root in his mind and fueled his limbs with fresh energy.
“So do you even know where this place is you and your dad went fishing?” he asked in a hushed tone of voice.
“I think I can find it again,” Jonathan replied.
“Right. Before we leave, we should pack as much as we can. Who knows how long we have to last on our own.”
“Good thinking,” Jonathan said.
They gathered up as much useful stuff as they could and piled it up beside the door in bags. Ryan peered through a gap in the barricade, his eyes sweeping up and down the street. It looked clear enough. The only danger he spotted was a zombie wandering around much further down. It was a threat, but if they hurried, they could get out without it noticing them.“We can make a run for it, I think.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jonathan said.
Ryan turned to Kerry. “When we open the door, you run straight for the car, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Don’t stop for anything.”
She nodded.
He turned to Jonathan. “You didn’t lock it, did you?”
“Nope, no point. Who’d steal it anyway?”
“Good,” Ryan said. He took hold of one side of the shelving. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Jonathan answered while taking the other.
“Now!”
Together they heaved the thing away from the front door with a hair-raising squeal of metal on the tile floors. With the umbrella held in front of him, Ryan peered outside again then opened the door. A quick glance confirmed that the front was clear, and he waved Kerry out. “Go, now. Get in and shut the door.”
She ran out, her mussed up hair catching the sun with glints of chestnut brown. On her back, she carried a pack filled with a few necessary things for her, just in case. A torch with new batteries, matches, food, water, and toiletries. It echoed the rest of their supplies and would tide them over for a spell.
Kerry jumped into the back of the car while Ryan watched. He blew out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and dared a glance at the zombie down the street. It still ambled around without purpose, unaware of Kerry darting across the sidewalk. So far, so good.
He jerked his head at Jonathan, and the two scooped up several bags each. With the plastic handles cutting into his fingers, Ryan ran out of the shop toward the boot of the car. He dropped half his load and fumbled for the keys. It was an awkward business with the umbrella tucked beneath his armpit and the other hand still holding a bunch of stuff, but he managed. The trunk popped open.
Together they tossed in their loot and sprinted back for more. Kerry followed their progress with wide eyes from the backseat. Ryan grabbed a few more bags and rushed back to dump it, followed closely by Jonathan. On the third and final trip, Kerry yelled something to Ryan just as he shut the lid of the trunk.
A raspy growl rang in his ears followed by a claw-like hand gripping his shoulder. He screamed with fright and twisted to the side. The fingers let go, and he ducked beneath the zombie’s swinging arms.
Jonathan gave the thing a hard push, and it toppled over. Together they scrambled for the doors and ducked into the car, breathing hard. The zombie was left behind to mourn the loss of its meal as they drove off.
Jonathan shot Ryan a grin. “Let’s not do that again.”
Ryan didn’t bother to answer, merely shaking his head as the buildings of the small community flashed past. One fact bothered him, though. “We need proper weapons. We can’t keep skating past on dumb luck alone.”
“Like guns?” Jonathan raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I’ve never used a gun before, but I’d sure like one.”
“I have. My dad took me shooting a few times, but that’s not what I mean.”
“What then?”
“Pull over.”
“What?” Jonathan asked.
“Over here by the hardware shop.”
Understanding dawned on Jonathan’s face. “Oh, I see. You mean like hammers and stuff.”
“Yup. Anything to keep those things away from us. Bash in their brains and so on,” Ryan replied while he eyed the street.
“Now you’re talking!” Jonathan hefted his car jack, a bulky and inefficient weapon to Ryan’s mind.
Not that I’m doing much better with this, he thought as he gripped the dumb umbrella that had nevertheless saved his life twice already.
“Wait here, Kerry,” he said after taking a careful look around. The only thing in the vicinity was a wrecked car, but the occupants were missing.
“I want to go with you.”
“No, you have to stay here.”
“I can help.” Her mouth set into that stubborn line he knew so well. The one where she’d follow him no matter what.
“Please, Kerry. Stay here.” He cast around in his mind for a convincing argument and struck on one he thought might work. “You can help me a lot more right here from the car.”
Her brows furrowed. “How so?”
“By keeping watch. If you see something come, blow the hooter, okay?”
Her face filled with eagerness. “I can do that.”
“Good.” He chucked her under the chin. “There’s my brave little sis.”
She beamed at him, a simple gesture that warmed his heart and refreshed his determination to find her a
safe home. At least until the government or the army or whoever could sort everything out. If they ever do.
“Come on, Ry,” Jonathan urged, untouched by the exchange between brother and sister. “The coast is clear.”
They got out and walked toward the hardware shop with their senses on full alert. By now, Ryan had learned the price of inattention. The zombies seemed to have a knack for jumping out of unexpected places even when it all looked clear.
The glass front of the shop was grimy from countless years of neglect. Whoever the owner had been, he’d not bothered to wash it. Ever. Ryan squinted through the caked dirt, trying to look inside. “I don’t see anything. Do you?”
“Nope,” Jonathan answered with a shake of the dead. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Guess so.” Ryan reached for the handle and pushed.
The door resisted, and he shoved a bit harder. This time it swung open with a rusty groan. A fetid smell washed over his face. The unmistakable aroma of rot.
“Ugh, it stinks,” Jonathan whispered. “There’s got to be one of them in here.”
Ryan swallowed and gathered his courage. “I’ll go first.”
Jonathan shot him a surprised look before he nodded and waved. “Go ahead, Ry. I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.”
Ryan stepped over the threshold. One step, two steps, three steps, and he paused. It was dark inside, the dirty windows allowing almost no light to shine through. His pupils expanded as his eyesight accommodated for the low light. Objects appeared in the murk. A row of lawnmowers, racks of tools, boxed odds and ends, pretty much what he expected of a hardware shop.
Jonathan appeared beside him, and together they moved deeper inside, their eyes sweeping from side to side. A squelch caused Ryan to pause, and he looked down. His shoe had landed in a thick pool of blood. The fluid stuck to the bottom of the sole when he lifted his foot, and bile stung his throat.
The hair on the back of his neck rose. A whisper of air was the only warning he got. He began to turn when something slammed into his side, sweeping him off his feet. He fell hard, and his side caught the edge of a heavy steel rack. Pain burst through his torso, radiating out from his ribs. The breath left his lungs in a pained rush.
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