by Jessica Ward
Chapter 21 - Reinforcements
The following days passed by without a hitch. We kept our heads down; we kept quiet throughout the day, and kept to the shadows at night. Duckface kept to herself, which was just how we liked it. The less we saw of her, the better.
Andy came out of the room a bit more each day. Now that he had seen the light, or rather seen Duckface, truly, for what she was, we were all the more willing to have him around.
It did help that he had told us about the events which followed, after his sudden departure from the base. I suppose he needed to see for himself, the state in which his family were in. I could tell it weighed heavy on his heart, but at least now he knew, there was nothing he could have done. I suppose it provided him with the closure he was so desperately looking for.
We took turns keeping watch, following the same routine we had many times before. The crowd of infected grew each day. Only by one or two at first, eventually slowly yet surely the numbers grew and grew. It was if they had signalled to the others that we were close. They stood around, as if conserving their energy. the fungus became apparent in each and every infected member of the crowd.
The Professor was particularly interested in the infected members which had been around for a while. We could see the fungus growing almost overnight.
With the Professor's fascination with the infected, and his thirst for knowledge, the Professor spent most of his time on watch. He readily took down notes; he had found an old pair of binoculars, so he was in his element.
The boys had managed to retrieve some fuel close by. The house next to us had a rather large boat, so the boys successfully syphoned out the fuel and refilled the narrow boat tanks. We had our getaway plan. We kept a stash of food in the boat, along with the supplies we needed.
All in all, we were prepared for the worst case. The boys, Jared included, had scoured the house for any type of weapon. They had been lucky enough to find the stash of gardening tools which the gardener had clearly left behind. We had all we needed for the makings of an angry mob. Unfortunately for us, the real angry mob was gathering its forces just outside our walls.
The infected crowd 30-40 strong had now cottoned on to our whereabouts. We had all kept a safe distance; we hardly made any noise. The Professor suggested they smelt us. That meant bad news for us. It meant that no matter where we went, the infected would surely follow.
"We need to reinforce the gate." Ryan announced a few days into our hiding stint.
"How do you propose we do that?" George asked.
It turned out, Ryan and Leon already had a plan. They had found an energizer, and had taken out the battery from the Mercedes SLR. With that they had found some jump leads.
"I have a plan." Ryan grinned.
They quickly set to work putting the equipment together. After this had been done, they opened the front door. They stepped out onto the large driveway and walked up to the gate.
This stirred the infected greatly. They launched themselves at the gate pushing their fungus covered arms through the bars, eager to get a hold of them.
The infected seemed a lot more vicious than I had ever seen them before. Saying that, perhaps since their main food source had dwindled so severely, they had a new found desperation.
The boys kept a safe distance; they were out of arms reach for now. This would all change the moment they closed in on the bars. The boys had already found their way around that. They were to place the jump leads on the bottom of the fence, that way the infected wouldn't knock them off, and the biting risk was minimal.
Leon bravely stepped forward and clipped the jump leads to the bars. As soon as Leon had backed up a safe distance, Ryan flicked the energizer on.
A surge of electricity flowed through the bars, knocking the infected back. They surged forward once again, not yet realising the new risk. Once again they were jolted back. This happened three or four times in a row. After that, they had learnt, they weren't getting in through there.
The infected looked towards us curiously. They growled at the boys in dismay. The crowd still gathered it's forces, although now each and every creature out there stayed a safe distance from the bars.
"That won't hold them off forever." George stated.
"The whole perimeter will need reinforcing." George continued.
"We search the house, we find what we can." Ryan finished.
We all set to work scouring the house, starting with the Attic room. We had all noticed the large loft hatch built into the landing's ceiling. I wasn't overly keen on going up, I had such a bad phobia of spiders, they terrified me just as much as the infected did.
I don't know what it was about spiders, they just made my skin crawl. The way they moved, scurrying along the floor and the walls. They weren't exactly the best looking insects. Although I knew they could do no harm, the irrational part of my brain just couldn't get over the fear. My fear was that bad, I couldn't even be around the dead ones. I wasn't the type to scream and runaway, the phobia took over my whole body, I would freeze. My heart would be pounding, and I wouldn't be able to take my eyes off them. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't walk into a room, knowing one was there.
Ryan pulled the hatch door down, wooden ladders folded out. The cold air blew down. The smell of freshly laid wood wafted down. The house was a fairly new build, it hadn’t had the time to build up the damp, musty smell, familiar with the attic dwellers out there.
Ryan was the first to climb up. Leon, Nick and Paul followed shortly after. It wasn’t long before they shouted down to us.
“Guys, come and have a look at this.” Paul shouted.
Lacey, George and I made our way up the ladders. I was a little wary at first. When I popped my head up through before, I was stunned. The sight before me was unreal. The whole attic had been laid out as a security centre. CCTV cameras covered nearly every corner of the house. We hadn’t even noticed them, even after all this time.
The security console stood in the centre of the room. There were fifteen screens in total. An executive black leather chair sat in front of the screens, a steel desk lined the bottom.
The cameras were pointing in all directions. From the first screen, we could see the gathering crowd of the infected. As my eyes moved along the screens, I could see different parts of the house. The front door entranceway, the dining room, living area, kitchen and the various hallways weaving throughout the house. Nearly every room was covered, down to the garage. The final screens showed the pool area, the garden and the boats.
“My, my, this is useful.” George gasped.
I turned my attention to the rest of the room. Tools of all different shapes and sizes hung against the far wall. Spanners, screwdrivers, pliers and a range of tools I had never seen before all perfectly aligned and brand new.
As I glanced over to the left of the wall, I spotted a chainsaw and some heavy blades. A wooden workbench sat underneath. I didn’t understand. Why keep tools in the attic? This guy must have been a survivalist, either that or he was really big on security.
The attic spanned the length of the whole house. The space we were stood seemed to be only a very small part.
Two doors stood on either side of the room. Although the attic roof was made of timber and the floorboards of course, concrete walls seemed to line the room. I made my way through the door on my right. A small kitchen diner opened up. It was very surreal looking into this sparse, no frills attached kitchen. It had a small electric oven and hob, microwave, kettle and sink. That was it. It felt as if I was looking into a student kitchen, not a million-pound mansion. A plain pine effect table sat in the corner, against what looked like a small pantry. It had four chairs around the table and some very basic table settings.
I investigated the room further. I started to open each and every cupboard. A few plates, bowls, glasses and mugs filled a few of the cupboards. Underneath the sink, I found basic cleaning supplies. All in all, it wasn’t a lot. Is this where the help lived? I wondere
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I opened the pantry door, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Canned food lined the shelves. There were shelves lined with canned soup, there must have been at least 50 cans on one shelf. Canned Tuna and Salmon lined the shelf below, there must have been over 100 tins. Three industrial sized cans of chilli stood below, along with a whole range of cereals.
I noticed a few gallons of cooking oil along with tub after tub of Skippy peanut butter. Just laying eyes on the peanut butter made my mouth water. Nick never understood my fascination with peanut butter, I loved the stuff. Skippy was by far my favourite. I am ashamed to say, after a long day at work, I would come home and grab a jar of peanut butter along with a spoon, and eat it straight out of the jar. Nick would always pull a face, and wouldn’t kiss me until the smell of peanut butter had well and truly gone.
I looked beyond the peanut butter as more cans lined the shelves. These ones were filled with veg. tinned carrots, peas and even potatoes filled the shelves around me. Underneath the veg was tin after tin of Spam.
I looked towards the very top shelf. Spanning around the small room were crates filled with Evian bottled water and a variety of different types of energy drinks.
The final few shelves contained a mixture of seasonings, herbs, dried fruits and nuts as well as granola bars and power bars. All in all, there was enough food here to feed an army.
This guy had been well prepared for the outbreak; unfortunately, he didn’t seem to get a chance to use it. I headed out the kitchen area, just as George and Leon went to take a look inside.
“Checkout the other rooms, it’s amazing what this guy’s done with the place.” Leon suggested.
“I’m going to have a look now. I can tell from this room alone how prepared he seemed to be.” I replied.
I headed back into the security room. Nick was watching the screens as he watched Paul run across the screens. They had found some walkie-talkies and were busy locating the elusive cameras throughout the rest of the house.
The door on the other side of the room was now wide open. I poked my head through the door. This room was as equally bland as the kitchen. There in front of me was a small living room. It had a flat screen TV wall mounted on the far wall. Hundreds of DVD’s lined the walls around the TV. A leather corner sofa dominated the area of the room. In the far corner of the room, a small bar area sat. It was filled with all kinds of spirits.
The walls around me were bare. I felt as if I was in a secret underground bunker, not an attic room. Yet another door sat flush against the furthest wall. I opened the door and made my way into the final room. This was the biggest room of them all. Two bunk beds sat side by side. They had very basic bedding and a thin mattress and pillow. A small bookshelf was leaning against the wall. A door arch, where clearly a door should have been fitted, led into the remaining room. Two large double beds filled this particular room. Between both beds a glass frosted door, already half opened lead into a bathroom.
I walked over to the door, whilst taking in my new surroundings. As I opened the door, the first thing I noticed was the shelving. Row upon row of toilet paper and towels circled around the room. A little further down, wicker baskets followed the trail of supplies.
I pulled out some of the baskets to see what was inside. One was filled with different kinds of shower gels. Another shampoos, and another conditioner. Fresh toothbrushes and packs of toothpaste along with cotton wool, cotton buds and other various toiletries filled the rest.
This homeowner really had thought of everything. Only a small sink, toilet and shower cubicle filled the room. On the wall next to the shower was a tankless water heater.
I headed back to the bedroom. There was a small walk in wardrobe against the far wall. As I went to open it, I realised it was locked. I screwed my face up as I wondered why anyone would possibly want to lock their wardrobe. Surely a survivalist wouldn’t really care if anyone borrowed their clothes. Although, when I thought about it, I knew if it were me, I’d have a lock. Especially when sharing a space with Duckface. She had a habit long ago, of taking things that didn’t belong to her without asking. Whether it be clothes, shoes or even nail polishes. They would reappear a few days or weeks later, when she eventually decided to return them. They always ended up in the worst imaginable condition.
She would bring whatever it was she had ‘borrowed’ back and simply say “I borrowed this, hope you don’t mind.”
By that time, even if I had minded (which more often than not I did!) it was too late; she had already had her slimy little hands all over them.
“We’re going to check the garage.” George called up.
The sound of his voice brought me back to reality. I had been so wrapped up in exploring the new surroundings, I had completely forgotten about the real reason we went up in the first place. We needed to reinforce the outside walls.
The electric gate was doing a grand job of keeping the infected out. The only downside was, the batteries had to be swapped and changed fairly frequently. This wasn’t a major issue. After all, we had two batteries to use. We took the battery out of the Range Rover and swapped it for the Mercedes battery before it went dead. As soon as we took the Mercedes battery off, we put it on charge. We had a nice little system going, although the infected were starting to get wise to our system.
The Professor was able to observe their behaviour on the infected through the security system in the attic. He would sit up in the attic throughout the day, with a bottle of red wine at his side.
I was starting to worry about the Professor's drinking habits. When he wasn’t sat by the screens, he was downstairs in the secret wine cellar choosing his next tipple.
His drinking habits had turned him into a bit of a recluse. In a way, I kind of understood his need to drink; after all, spending time with Duckface on a regular basis would cause anyone to hit the bottle.
Even so, I didn’t condone his behaviour. I tried to keep Jared and Sarah away from him after he had a few. They had been through so much already; the last thing they needed was to see the Professor intoxicated on a day to day basis.
Jared and Sarah had started to revert back to their usual selves. We all tried our hardest to include them, and to keep them occupied. On the odd occasion I would hear Sarah sobbing in the bathroom, I desperately wanted to comfort her, give her a big hug and tell her it would all be ok. But she needed some space, and she needed her time to mourn.
Jared, I could tell had managed to push his emotions to one side. He was eager to learn from Ryan and Leon, and did all he could to help the group. He seemed to have a real thirst for knowledge which was really refreshing to see. He really did makeup for the lack of interest with Duckface seemed to elude.
Duckface had yet again, locked herself away. We weren’t complaining, she very rarely left the confines of her room. When she did, she was her usual stuck up self. I had bitten my tongue on many occasions as she purposely pushed past Sarah, in a childish attempt to make her feelings towards her known.
Sarah was mature enough to rise above it. She would simply glare back at her or simply turn her back. I have to admit, I was proud of her on the first few occasions, when she shoved her back.
It wasn’t just Sarah she made her feelings known to. Let’s just say, if looks could kill each and every one of us would be dead by now.
Our reinforcement search hadn’t been very productive. Although we scoured every inch of the house, we could find nothing worthwhile to use. We carried on with the electric gates, as it was our only means of protection. The crowd of infected continued to grow. Before long, the entire town had gathered in all its infected glory.
Chapter 22 - Target Practice
“I think it’s about time we came up with an alternative plan.” Ryan suggested one day, as the infected crowd was starting to get out of hand.
A small group of us were gathered in the kitchen; Nick and Paul were washing the dishes as we had just finished lunch.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
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“I think it’s about time we think about moving on.” Ryan replied solemnly.
He had a point. We were down to our last reserves. If we stayed any longer, we would have to make a start on the attic room supplies.
“I’m not sure.” Lacey told us. “I mean, if we go back to the boats, we don’t know where we’ll end up.” She began.
“Yes, I understand that. But staying here, we don’t have any real means of defending ourselves. We have no fire power. Just a bunch of pitchforks and knives.” Leon interrupted.
They both made valid points. If we were to leave the house, we would be back in the cramped confines of the narrow boats. We couldn’t stay on the water forever. Sooner or later we would have to stop again for fuel, for food and water. Plus, what happened if something went wrong with one of the boats? We couldn’t exactly ring the AA or the RAC, or whatever the boat equivalent of breakdown service is. It simply didn’t exist anymore.
Leon made a good argument as well. Without a means of defending ourselves, just how were we going to cope, should the worst happen?
If the infected found a way in, we would be trapped in the house. We could probably fight a few off, but with a horde just waiting for an opportunity to descend; we would be sorely outnumbered, without a chance in hell of getting out.
“I really don’t know. I agree, we need to come up with a plan. But I’m not sure what the best course of action is.” I added in.
“I know the Professor isn’t in any rush to leave.” Nick advised.
“You’re right. Besides, I think the kids like it here.” Paul agreed.
“We’re not kids.” Sarah said as she strolled into the room.
From what I knew of her already, she hated being referred to as a child, and rightly so. She was well on her way to becoming a young woman. If anyone were to be referred to as a child, it would be Duckface, with her selfish and downright psychotic behaviour.
“Sorry.” Paul apologised.
“It’s ok. What are we talking about?” Sarah asked as she hopped onto a newly vacated bar stool.
