Left Behind: The Suburban Dead

by T. A. Sorsby

  ‘So they’re the ideal defenders then?’ I asked.

  ‘Pretty much.’ She nodded.

  ‘What about weaknesses?’ I probed. ‘I’m not saying we’re going to fight them, but what do we need to be prepared for?’

  ‘Been wondering about that.’ Laurel said, ‘They don’t have a lot of vehicle power, at least on a military grade. No tanks and very little light armour, they don’t need it. So mostly they’ve got trucks and busses.’

  ‘Like the guy on TV,’ Neville chimed in, ‘guarding a bus full of infected, outside of Mercy Hospital.’

  ‘I saw that too, yeah. That was Sydow Sec. Guess they dropped the ball on that one, but who was expecting the living dead?’

  ‘Hopefully they’ve got their shit together now.’ I shrugged, going over to the kitchen to refill my drink. ‘So they’re good defenders, but weak on the transport.’ I shouted back. ‘Convoy could be vulnerable then, or over-capacity, if they’ve got loads of refugees.’

  ‘Maybe we should load the truck up with supplies, join the convoy in our own transport?’ Anita asked.

  ‘It is the next best thing to a military ATV,’ Lucile said, ‘hells, some of the trucks I rode in during my time were a sight worse.’

  ‘I’m reluctant to load her up if we’ve got to abandon it though,’ I weighed in, ‘If they don’t want to take it or they end up commandeering everything we have anyway, I’d rather our supplies be…’ I struggled for the words.

  ‘You want a contingency plan,’ Neville nodded, ‘in case things don’t work out. We should be able to leave the CDC and get back here, with supplies waiting for us.’

  ‘Pretty much.’ I sighed. ‘Somewhere between the best and worst case, there’s the reality. Sydow is probably going to be overcrowded and hungry, no matter how defensible their security forces and CDC doctors can make it. If they can’t feed us, I’d rather know we can run to someplace where we’ve still got a chance.’

  ‘I hear you, I guess.’ Lucile rolled a shoulder, ‘But it doesn’t quite sit right. If we’ve got food, maybe we should try bartering it with them?’

  ‘It’s an option,’ I told her, ‘but even then. Better we have our supply here, hidden away.’

  ‘There’s still more we can take from the co-op.’ Laurel reminded us. ‘We were in a bit of a rush to leave, but those soldiers who went in after us didn’t leave with anything.’

  ‘Yeah, they were a little busy.’ I raised an eyebrow, remembering the horde roaming around outside our front door. ‘We do that tomorrow then, if we’re in agreement. Clear out the last of the co-op supplies and squirrel them away in Castle Towers, anything we’re not taking with us.’

  ‘You made us clear out all the apartments,’ Morgan complained, looking to Anita, ‘and you want us to fill them again?’

  ‘Nah, not restocking cupboards,’ I said, ‘but hiding things. Reckon the top of the elevator cab would be a good place, and the bottom of the shaft.’

  ‘Rats.’ Morgan threw in.

  It drew a few confused looks.

  ‘We have rats, if you remember.’ She said, jogging my memory. ‘The other day, up in this very apartment.’

  ‘You didn’t think to mention this sooner?’ Anita cringed, checking down by her feet.

  ‘Wasn’t very big…’ she apologised. ‘But if we have rats then anything we leave behind has to be pretty well boxed in. They’ll gnaw through anything in time.’

  ‘We haven’t seen any in days though,’ I thought aloud. ‘Maybe they were just fleeing ahead of the zeds.’

  ‘Could be.’ She said, ‘But still. Anywhere we can get traps from? Or anything else we can do? Minimise our losses.’

  ‘I’m not an expert.’ I admitted, putting my hands up.

  ‘Seal everything up tight,’ Lucile supplied, ‘plastic tubs, metal containers, the harder it is for them to get into something the more likely they’ll sod off to find something easier to eat.’

  ‘Then we leave behind everything tinned,’ I suggested, ‘reduces weight in our packs and leaves behind the stuff most likely to survive. Suggestions on hiding spots?’

  ‘Top of the elevator cab was a good shout,’ Laurel said, ‘but if we’re thinking of spreading the stash out, then what about kitchen bins? Take out the old garbage bag then put a new one in, and bag up our tins inside that one. Don’t know about the rats, but if I were looting a place I’d probably overlook someone’s bin.’

  Woman had a point, I threw her a thumbs up, but Lucile was already in with another suggestion.

  ‘The dumpsters around back, glass and metal recycling,’ she said, ‘who’s going to look in there?’

  ‘If we’re talking general hiding places, I’ve seen killers and drug dealers hide weapons in all kinds of places,’ Anita came in, leaning forwards, ‘Rip the upholstery beneath these cushions and it’s just empty space. Then you’ve got your loose floorboards, ceiling tiles, false backs on cupboards, stuffing the mattress…’

  Morgan was scribbling down the suggestions on the notepad, so we were covered if we couldn’t remember this in the morning. I for one did not intend to stop drinking until bed time. Whenever that happened to be.

  ‘So we’ve got our hiding places,’ I said, after she’d finished writing, and no more suggestions were forthcoming. ‘We know where we’re going to squirrel away our nuts for the winter. But what nuts are we taking with us?’

  ‘How do you reckon they’ll be fixed for water?’ Neville asked Laurel.

  ‘Probably okay? If they’ve been filling water bottles non-stop since this started then they’ll be fine. We’ve still got water, so I imagine a city with military engineers is keeping the pump stations going.’

  ‘Either way, we probably won’t have to worry about it. That’s good.’ I nodded. ‘So we take rice, pasta, noodles – lasts ages, and its light for how much food you get once it’s taken on water.’

  ‘Going to be a bit bored if we’re stuck eating rice forever.’ Morgan said. ‘Taking any jars of sauce?’

  ‘I think we’ll have the bag space between us. But we’ll leave, say, a third of the dried stuff here? In case shit.’

  ‘In case shit…’ Morgan hummed, writing on her pad, possibly word for word. ‘The meat’s going to be done for come tomorrow morning. We’ll have to cook it up if we’re going to squeeze a couple more days out of it. We can bust up some furniture for the oven, my experiment wasn’t a total failure, can definitely be improved upon.’

  ‘Another job for morning.’ I said. ‘Everyone got a nice big backpack tucked away somewhere?’

  There was a nod from everyone, Morgan and Anita had apparently seen some in their search they could get to.

  ‘Probably looking at half food, half clothing and whatever else you need. I don’t mind if you want to bring hand luggage too but at least leave one hand free for a gun.’

  ‘Small wardrobe allowance,’ Laurel hummed. ‘Better leave behind your formals, everyone.’

  ‘Damian’s not going to be up for carrying much,’ Lucile said, ‘I can carry his pack if someone covers me.’

  ‘No, I’ll get it.’ Neville offered, ‘I’ll wear it on my front, another pack would weight you down too much.’

  ‘You saying you’re stronger than me, Neville?’ Lucile grinned, ‘You looking to arm wrestle?’

  Neville laughed. ‘You’d probably win that. I just mean…I’m taller. I’ll carry the weight and keep moving better.’

  ‘Probably right there.’ She snorted. ‘But I aim to pull my weight. I’ll take the shotgun then. Stop you getting eaten.’

  ‘So we know what we’re looting, and we know what we’re packing, and we know what we’re hiding. We’ve got our weapons sorted, and our shit is generally together. Any other business?’ I asked, taking a long sip from my drink.

  ‘Think that about covers it.’ Neville nodded, looking around, to a room of bobbing heads.

  ‘Right. Let’s drink. I think we’ve all earned it.’

  *
/>   Fifty

  I drank to remember. I drank to forget. I drank because the bottle was nearly finished. What I didn’t do was drink too much. After that bottle of rum ran dry, I stopped. As safe as Castle Towers was, none of us could really bear the thought of being too drunk to defend ourselves if the need arose, and besides, we’d need to be sharp for tomorrow.

  Despite stopping myself short of overindulgence, I woke up with a sore head, dry throat and a weight on my chest. I’d shared the bed with Laurel again - her arm was draped over me.

  Carefully, I extracted myself from the warm covers, regretting it almost instantly. Winter was coming on fast this year, and without the benefit of central heating the only things keeping me warm had been the duvet and Laurel’s increasingly confusing company.

  I looked over her sleeping form, deep in the sleep that white wine apparently brings her, and felt the churn of mixed emotions in my gut. Was Morgan right? We were getting close? Or were we just sharing a bed because we didn’t want to be alone? How far would loneliness and loss take us? She was my fiancé’s best friend.

  I dressed warmly again, putting a black long-sleeved undershirt on, with another blue t-shirt over the top, finishing it off with the hoodie again. If I got too warm I could always stuff it in my bag or something, but if I was this cold inside…

  Jeans, boots, hair and teeth brushed, and I was about ready to face the world. Laurel was stirring in the bedroom as I used the bathroom tap to wash down some paracetamol for my headache. I didn’t mean to wake her, she could have slept in – her bag was already packed anyway. But we’d need to move eventually, and there was work to do before then.

  Only after I swallowed the pills did I consider I’d just used up medical supplies for a hangover headache. A habit a decade in the making, it’d be tough to break, but we’d all need to be sharp today. It was worth taking a couple pills of the most common medicine in the world for.

  This morning I seemed to be the first person up and about, so set to doing the list of jobs we’d set out from last night. Firstly, I broke all the eggs into a giant mixing bowl and whipped up a campsite’s worth of scrambled eggs, adding an equally large dose of salt and pepper as I went. By the time the chopping board came out for the salad peppers, Anita had left her borrowed bedroom.

  ‘Feeling any better today?’ I asked her.

  ‘Don’t feel any worse,’ she said, with a faint smile, ‘and I’d expect to be, if I were going to turn.’

  ‘Did you end up uh…sleeping in the bathroom?’ I asked, tentatively.

  ‘I couldn’t get comfy, even with the drink. In the end, I just cuffed an arm to the headboard. But hey,’ she added, gesturing at herself, ‘I’m alive. So I guess…I owe you an apology for yesterday.’

  ‘You freaked out,’ I said, meeting her eyes, ‘that could happen to any of us.’

  ‘Still. I’m sorry I went off like that. Embarrassing.’ She cringed. ‘Looks like I’m on the mend now anyway. Thanks.’

  ‘Even if Damian hadn’t have been shot, we’d have gone to find medicine for you.’ I told her, meaning every word. ‘We don’t have many people left. Got to take care of those we do have.’

  ‘I know.’ She smiled, looking about the kitchen, avoiding meeting my eyes again.

  ‘Help me with breakfast?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure.’ She sniffed, ‘Yeah.’

  We set to making an industrial sized serving of scrambled eggs and peppers, with more of the sausages from last night warmed up on the side. Since we’d learned that some people can’t stand tomatoes or mushrooms, we cooked those in separate pans, for people to add as they please. Fortunately, we were all good with the peppers.

  Morgan had talked us into saving the seeds, and found plastic food baggies to put them in once we’d separated them from the gooey bits. I didn’t know anything about growing food from supermarket veg, but she seemed to think it was worth a shot, and we had time to spare.

  As Neville, Morgan and Laurel filtered in, we were just adding grated cheese by the fistful to the still-gooey eggs. They were coming along nicely as Lucile and Damian came through the door, met by a chorus of greetings.

  ‘Good to see you up and about.’ Neville said with a handshake.

  ‘You keeping your spare hanky in there yet?’ Laurel teased.

  Anita gave him a careful hug. ‘She’s not a bad nurse, right?’

  ‘You missed out on a good party last night.’ Morgan told him.

  Finally, it was my turn.

  He looked at me, and the slow smile that’d been playing on his face as he met the rest of them turned into something a lot more serious. A look I won’t forget in a hurry.

  Anita had come from a position of power, she was used to being the one saving the day, so she struggled to look me in the eye and express it, but Damian could. I was just his neighbour, a casual acquaintance – and I’d risked my life to save his. Not just against one zed, or a couple of gunman, but against a whole damn hospital full of nightmare zombies and freakish ghouls. He looked at me with such gratitude that I felt I could touch the sky.

  Even if I still felt largely responsible for his injury.

  ‘Thank you mon…’ he beamed, taking confident steps forward, though I could tell his injuries pained him. He put a hand on my shoulder, and gave me a slow nod, his eyes closed. When he opened them again, they were watery. Lot of tears going around recently.

  ‘Thank you everyone, you saved my life last night. I will never – never,’ he stressed, voice rough, ‘forget that. I owe each an every one of you.’

  ‘I’ll take mine in cash, big man.’ Laurel joked. We laughed, and he did too, letting the tears run down in the growing stubble covering his chin. Me and Neville were looking overdue a session with the razor too, but we had more important things to do.

  ‘No speeches.’ I said, before anyone could start. ‘It’s breakfast time. Good to have you back with us.’ I told him, giving his good shoulder a squeeze.

  We ate our eggs with random perishables and sliced bread. The antibiotics pumping through Anita and Damian were effecting their appetite, but with Lucile’s encouragement they managed to get down a reasonable portion. Laurel and Morgan did their best to make up for it, while Neville and I watched from the balcony windows, eating stood up. It was too cold to go out, but the mist was clearing, so we had the view, and were far enough from the kitchen that we could talk in private.

  ‘Time do you make it?’ I asked him.

  ‘Ten, ish.’ He said, checking his watch.

  ‘I want to be setting off at two. Little early, but I want to get a look at the place before we commit to it.’

  ‘Should the worst-case scenario be the real one.’ he guessed.

  I nodded. ‘You ever been into the VBC building?’

  ‘Once. I had an interview there, before I started working for the firm. Don’t remember much though, this is going back years.’

  ‘Probably not that important to have an interior map anyway,’ I shrugged. ‘If they’re legit then we won’t need one. If we can tell they’re not on the level then we don’t go anywhere near them anyway.’

  ‘There’s a warehouse building across the street. Could get us a vantage point, but if they’re as defensively minded as Laurel says then they might have somebody watching it, and take offence at us getting into firefight positions.’

  ‘Suggestions?’

  ‘VBC’s on an intersection. That warehouse is directly across on one side, car park on the other. But across on the diagonal is a row of fancy apartments. If we can break into there through the back, and get to a window or a balcony a little ways away, we can use our binoculars to get a look at the studios. Less chance of us being spotted.’

  ‘That’s what we’ll do then.’ I said, returning my attention to the eggs for a moment. ‘If everything looks good we’ll show ourselves, drive up to the front gate. If something’s off…’

  ‘Then we get back here.’ He nodded, having a forkful himself. ‘But what the
n? Long term, I mean. It seems like this thing isn’t just going to blow over.’

  ‘I don’t know…’ I faltered. The subject matter, the implications, they were a little heavy for breakfast. ‘Keep in touch with GCR I guess. Use their radio to reach out to people, expand the group, safety in numbers.’

  ‘That could attract unsavoury sorts, like the Deserters, or just be an advertisement for people looking to rob us.’ Neville warned. ‘Not saying it’s a bad idea. But there’s always a risk.’

  ‘Safest thing would be to stay here and starve to death, but I mean to go on living.’ I said. It must have come out with more anger than confidence, as Neville gave me a worried look. I flashed an apologetic smile. ‘I know. But any troublemakers who cross our path…they’ll get what’s coming to them.’

  Neville and I both looked over to Damian. ‘We’ll be better, next time.’ He said. ‘Surviving these days, we’ll have to get ruthless.’

  ‘We’ve already done our share of mercy killings. And regular ones.’ I added. ‘But so far nothing we’ve done has left a bad taste in my mouth.’

  ‘Except…Dani, maybe?’

  I hadn’t forgotten. But I had forgiven. I shook my head.

  ‘Had to be done. I knew it then, but I was having a hard time coming around to it. If the same happened again…if it had to be you, or Morgan, or anyone else…’

  ‘You’d do it?’ he asked, his gaze intent.

  ‘And I’d want you all to do it for me.’ I answered.

  After breakfast, it was time to pack up our bags. Laurel helped Lucile and Damian, since her stuff was basically all ready to go. She’d had to dump a couple of her shirts and pairs of jeans to make room for rice and pasta, but at least she’d been joking earlier about bringing her date-night heels.

  I’d suggested we get packed up before we made our final raid on the co-op, and stashed all the supplies. That way we’d have a bit of thinking time about things we’d forgotten or needed to add, rather than rushing about at the last minute and leaving our toothbrush behind or something.