Better Lucky than Good (Records of the Resistance)

by Meehan, Shaun

  "Drop 'em!" Clay ordered.

  Melanie and Clay began to alternate well aimed shots at the heads of the entrapped undead. They proved to be difficult targets to hit as they tore about in their entangled state. Even still, from Clay's perspective the event appeared more akin to an execution than it did a fight.

  From the column, Kevin was unsure of what was transpiring as the suppressed weapons were silently being discharged. He watched from his position, observing the vegetation in front of Clay and Melanie, twist and writhe. Than almost as fast as it had begun to tear apart, the bush’s movement ceased all together.

  The newly deceased infected hung grotesquely in the thick vines and vegetation, in which they had become entangled during their attempt to reach Clay and Melanie. Hanging as they were, they resembled nightmarish puppets whose strings had been abandoned abruptly by their puppeteer.

  Melanie lowered her rifle and looked to Clay, seeing his newly equipped pistol.

  "Where the hell did you come up with that thing?" Melanie asked, nodding to the pistol that Clay held out in front of him. She had not been privy to the pistol transferring hands unto Clay, due to her position at the point of the column.

  "A man from the apartments gave it to me. He had made the suppressor for the nut job that lived in the building, and thought it best that I should have it." Clay replied as he lowered the pistol slightly, all the while maintaining his vision on the tangle of infected.

  "Better lucky than good, any day?" Melanie asked sarcastically, quoting Clay's words from a few days ago.

  "You got it." Clay replied nonchalantly while returning the pistol to its holster.

  "We need to get moving. It's impossible to know if these infected had picked up on us while wandering, or if they were in transit to the apartment." he continued.

  Clay turned back to the column and waved his hand, indicating that it was again time to move.

  *****

  After a gruelling march, the group had reached the department store without further incident. Clay had never heard such a large assembly of people move as quietly as they had, after the encounter with the infected on the tracks. All passed the entangled undead along the rails, falling silent one after another as the perspective on their situation shifted from surreal and into reality. Clay assumed that many of the survivors had believed their trials would now begin to wane since being freed from the apartments. However, in seeing the fallen undead, they were coming to realize that their hardships were far from over.

  Clay, Kevin, and Melanie had crouched low in the ditch for a few moments, ensuring that the short jaunt from the railroad tracks to the back door of the department store was clear of any unwanted guests. The column waited as patiently as they could, their arms, feet and backs aching from the load which they had carried along their journey. Those who were capable of fighting stood vigilantly, watching for any movement around them.

  "Okay, Kevin. It's time. You're going first. Melanie and I will cover you from here, while you unlock the door. Melanie will follow after you and provide cover from the doorway and I'll start sending people over in small groups." Clay said quietly.

  "And if the shit hits the fan, again?" Kevin asked.

  "I'm going to send the whole group across and Melanie and I will provide cover as best we can." Clay answered.

  Kevin nodded affirmatively to Clay, then stood and slowly made his way to the door; his head darting from side to side in anticipation of approaching undead. After crossing the narrow asphalt lane and reaching the door, Kevin dug his keys out of his pocket. After inserting them into the lock, he rotated its mechanism. He struggled while attempting to pry the door with his finger tips, but a moment later had opened it as far as the hinge would allow. Kevin leaned against the inner side of the door, propping it open with his body weight.

  Clay remained still for several minutes, vigilantly watching for movement along the edges of the massive building. Once he had felt assured that Kevin had gone unseen, he placed his hand on Melanie's back indicating to her that she should now move. Melanie stood, shouldering her rifle and traversed across the lane way. She stopped a few metres from the door and knelt on the asphalt. From her position, Melanie could observe the tree line which ran along the tracks.

  Clay began waving on small groups of survivors, raising his hand palm out to stay the column should the group attempting to cross the drive become too large. Clay maintained his vision on the corners of the building, on guard against any infected that may be wandering the perimeter of the department store.

  After the final group had crossed the asphalt without incident, Clay remained in his position for what he had estimated to be approximately five minutes. It was his intent to be certain that their entrance into the relative safety of the store had not been compromised. Clay quickly crossed the asphalt once he was satisfied, and upon reaching Melanie's position he crouched down beside her. Melanie stood and turned, making her own entrance into the building while Clay took over her assignment.

  Kevin issued a quiet whistle informing Clay that Melanie had made it inside, who responded by making his entrance alongside Kevin; closing and locking the door behind them.

  Melanie had already found the headlamps and flashlights which she had placed on the floor beside the door just for this occasion. The moment she heard Kevin turn the lock, she activated the torches, illuminating the area around the cluster of survivors.

  Clay exhaled a long sigh of relief. He really had no idea what to say now that the rescue was finally complete. He hadn't really put much thought into the specifics of this moment, having felt that it would have been prudent not to focus too intently on what would occur should they find success.

  “Well, everyone. Welcome to your new home..." was the best that Clay could come up with.

  The survivors began to form a semi-circle around Clay as he spoke and responded with gentle clapping that quickly shifted into hugs, tears, and relieved laughter. Clay couldn't help but allow himself to smile as he watched the people rejoice. He observed Kevin as he hugged his wife and knelt down to embraced his son. The men that had fought beside him, whose wives were present were also hugging and crying, while those without were shaking hands with one another; celebrating their success.

  Melanie approached Clay and unexpectedly wrapped her arms around his neck, and received a one armed hug around her waist in return.

  "You did this." she said quietly in his ear.

  Clay's smile melted away on hearing Melanie's assertion of him being responsible for the completion of the operation. The thought of failure had haunted Clay from the onset of the mission. As he watched the quiet celebration he couldn't avoid imagining how differently this day could have gone for everyone now present. Instead of tears of joy and relieved laughter, there could have been screams of terror and cries of suffering. But here they stood, in celebration together.

  "Better lucky than good..." Clay quietly offered, in response to Melanie's praise.

  She released his neck and smiled at him. As much as Clay wished that he could allow the celebration to go on, he knew that certain tasks needed attending. All of which would require the participation of everyone. The well earned rest deserved by them all, hinged on their completion.

  "Everyone... Everyone..." Clay said, raising his palms into the air.

  The room fell silent in response to Clay's interruption, every head in the group swivelling towards his voice.

  "I'm sorry. I know that everyone would rather continue on as you are... I wish that we could. But there are still a number of things that need to be addressed before we can relax for a while..." Clay said regretfully.

  For a moment the room remained silent, until a large man who was resting a bat on his shoulder, broke the quietness. Clay had recognized the man from the fighting and observed him now as he took a step towards Clay before speaking.

  "I think I can speak for everyone here..." he said, after clearing his throat.

  "You risked your own life, for
the sake of ours... A bunch of people you've never met before. None of us asked you to do that..." he began, then paused briefly.

  "What are your instructions? We'll make sure they get done." he finished.

  Clay had half expected a challenge from the man, judging by his tone and posture towards him. He instead received words of appreciation and a willingness to work together.

  "We're going to split into groups, and each group is going to have a team leader. Each team leader is going to be responsible for working with their group to finish their assigned jobs. Everyone okay with that?" Clay asked.

  Clay made a point of asking the group for their cooperation. Not because he felt that he would lack the authority to delegate, but because he knew that survival would depend largely on community. Working together and making decisions together would serve to bolster that very sense of community which they all required.

  "Luckily, this department store can serve all of our immediate needs. It has hydro, but we can't turn it on until we ensure that any light inside, can't been see from the outside." Clay said.

  "That shouldn't be much of a problem." Kevin interrupted.

  "There aren't many windows in here. We can black them out with garbage bags and duct tape. The breaker system in this building is pretty extensive as well. As long as we don't turn on the outside lights and switch on only what we need inside, then it should be easy enough to do." he suggested.

  "Good enough. Take two people with you Kevin and make it happen. At least one of you needs to be armed. Even though we're pretty sure that we're free of any infected while in this building, we haven't done an extensive search. Be careful." Clay finished.

  With a nod, Kevin grabbed his wife and son and wandered off into the darkness of the department store.

  "In the furniture section there are beds. Now, only a few are set up for display. Unfortunately, we're going to require more then just a few, now that you're all here. I know everyone is extremely tired and in need of some much deserved rest, so I'm going to ask for some volunteers to get this done." Clay said, scanning the group for hands.

  The large man who had previously spoken for the entire group stepped forward, along with several others who had fought alongside Clay.

  "Thank you." Clay said.

  "What's your name?" Clay asked the tall man.

  "Tim." he replied.

  "Tim, there is a flat bed cart in the furniture section. Just look for the drill press and you'll find it. Keep all the beds relatively close together. I know we'd all like some privacy, but for tonight we're just going to have to settle for quick and dirty." Clay said.

  "I'd love to learn everyone's names and tomorrow I'll work on that. For now though, I hope everyone can forgive me for only learning a few." Clay added.

  A single bay of lights flickered on, illuminating the centre aisle of the department store. Tim waved his hand, silently instructing the other men to accompany him and proceeded down the lit row.

  "Getting down to the last of it here now. A few people, along with the children who are present, are needed to gather up some quick snacks. I'm sure everyone here is already half starved and by the time everything has been finished tonight, we're only going to be more hungry." Clay continued.

  A woman, who was holding the hand of a small girl stepped forward.

  "Um... I'm Lindsay. I think all the mom's here could do that." she said meekly.

  "Okay, Lindsay. Thank you." Clay said, smiling to the woman appreciatively.

  "Where should we bring everything?" she asked.

  "Whatever you find, bring to the furniture department. Don't grab anything that requires cooking for now. Just simple food. If you can, all of you should take the kids down the toy aisle and grab something for them to entertain themselves. Quiet toys only please." Clay instructed.

  "Okay..." Lindsay said, smiling to Clay. She appreciated that he had thought about the children's welfare. "Come on honey... Let's go find you a toy." she continued, looking down to her daughter.

  The rest of the parents in the group followed Lindsay. All were informing their children in excited, albeit in hushed tones, that they would be getting a new toy.

  Only a few people remained standing before Clay, in what had once been a much larger semi-circle.

  "Melanie, I need you, along with everyone else, to haul all this gear to where we'll be spending the night. All the personal bags go to their owners, but everything else, such as the guns and ammunition need to be inventoried. I want to know exactly how much of everything we have." Clay said, looking over at Melanie.

  She nodded and bent down to lift large duffle bag over her shoulder, while everyone else who remained began to follow her lead.

  "After your done, I need you to also inventory everyone here. Ages, names, injuries, conditions, what they did for work prior to the outbreak and any additional skills they may have." Clay added.

  "Got it." Melanie replied confidently.

  Melanie had started to develop into a new person before Clay's eyes. She had really begun to embrace her new role. It impressed Clay to see such an unlikely individual thrive in the way that Melanie had. When they had first met, she was a scared woman who appeared more likely to piss herself than become an integral part of a rescue attempt, then further contribute by demonstrating a high level of reliability and taking on a leadership role amidst a crisis. She was an amazing young woman as far as Clay was concerned.

  "Except you, Mick. You and I have some things we need to discuss. We're going to hardware." Clay said.

  "Lead the way." Mick replied, while laying his duffle bag down onto the floor.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Day 5, 33 Days Post Infection

  Every member of the group, including the children who had been so enamoured by their newly acquired toys, had fallen fast asleep the night before. Clay had been the first to rise the subsequent morning, followed by Melanie who had been awoken by his movement in the bed they had shared. For four mornings in a row, Clay had suffered deep pangs of guilt for having slept in a bed with a woman who had not been Brooke. Although for reasons far removed from intimacy, having laid beside Melanie, regardless of it being done so out of necessity had still felt like a betrayal.

  Clay knew that with every passing day, the likelihood of Brooke's survival had been decreasing exponentially. He had still yet to hear from her, which could be resultant of any number different circumstances. Still, it remained unsettling. She could be unaware of the possibility of communicating with him through email. Their house may not have electricity, which was very likely based on Kevin's explanation of the military having directed power to only key facilities. She may even have relocated and taken shelter with a group of other people, much in the same way that Clay's freshly rescued friends had. However, the very real possibility of Brooke either having had been infected or having succumbed to the dangers of the outbreak, continued to linger in the back of his mind. The uncertainty of Brooke's status was something that Clay was increasingly unable to ignore. If she was alive, he would bring her back. If she was dead, he would at least know for certain. Clay was now finally in a position to travel back home. He was appropriately armed, had the option of three vehicles that were all in road worthy condition, and would be leaving these people in the capable hands of Kevin and Melanie should he fail to return.

  Clay was staring at his phone while sitting on the edge of the bed, unaware that Melanie had been watching him. He had left his phone plugged into the outlet with the power on, intent on not missing a single potential communication. Had Brooke of emailed him, his phone would have received the message the moment the satellite passed over head. Yet, his inbox remained empty.

  "Who are you waiting for?" Melanie asked, startling Clay.

  Knowing that at some point he would have to broach the subject of Brooke with Melanie, Clay had little choice but to tell her now about his plan to return home. Should he wait any longer to attempt to reach her, the odds of Brooke being found alive would eve
ntually dwindle to zero. Clay didn't relish the thought of having this discussion with Mel, which was why he had put it off for so long. That was, until now.