"I don't think that anyone could have said it better, Clay." she said.
"For anyone who isn't sure what do to, or isn't otherwise preoccupied, I'll be right here. I'm going to be working on keeping the children occupied, while starting to clear a space to allow for more beds. I'm sure that several people's sleeping arrangements had felt pretty awkward last night. Unfortunately, we lacked enough space to allow for everyone to have their own bed to sleep in. But before I do that, I'm going to see if there isn't a way that we can get some coffee on the go. I don't know about everyone else, but I've been dying for some caffeine." Lindsay continued, while looking around at those surrounding her.
The entire group who numbered thirty-five in total, uniformly began to erupt in a mix of laughter, while some began to comment amidst the noise about their similar desire for a good cup of coffee.
"Well, I guess that settles it then." Clay began.
"You all know what to do. If you don't, report to either myself, Lindsay, or William and we can get you sorted out." he finished.
Immediately, everyone began to form small groups, discussing their plans for the day. The once quiet building came to life with the people busying themselves. One of the young women had begun to gather together all of the children and lead them away in the direction of the building's toy department. Lindsay soon began to coordinate the effort, in which the people would begin their pseudo-renovation of the department store's interior.
Clay stood and removed himself from the hustle and bustle of the activities' epicentre. He was soon followed by Tim, Kevin, Mel and Mick, who all had efforts of their own to organize. They quickly formed a circle around Clay and awaited further instruction from him.
"That was pretty good." Tim said smartly, referring to Clay's speech.
Clay's response to Tim came in the form of a half-smile accompanied by the rolling of his eyes.
"Mick, are you ready for what we discussed yesterday?" Clay asked.
"Wait..." Melanie interrupted. "What did you discuss yesterday?"
"Grenades. We're going to need to start fortifying this place, which includes improvising some weaponry." Clay answered.
"Does that mean...?" Melanie began to ask, but was soon interrupted by Mick who cut her sentence short.
"Yes. It means that we're going need what remains of the outfitter's black powder supply." Mick said.
"And how do you suppose that you're going to accomplish that?" she asked.
"Tim and Kevin. I need you guys to get that truck ready to move. But before you do that, I need you to take everyone who is both capable and willing to fight, over to the hardware department. Make sure they're all adequately armed to fight the infected. Axes, sledgehammers... Anything sturdy enough to either cleave, or crush a skull." Clay instructed.
"You got it." Kevin said in reply.
"Mick, I need you to find yourself two volunteers, who fully understand the risks associated with your mission, and are still willing to go along with you." Clay said, after turning his gaze towards Mick.
"It's already done, Clay." he replied.
"Good. Our little trip to the lumber yard is going to be to your advantage. The sound of that truck's engine is going to attract a lot of undead. That should leave you free to get to the outfitter's and back without much interference from the infected." Clay said to Mick, before turning his attention to the group.
"Now... You all know what to do. Let's try to be ready in no less then thirty minutes. Tim... Kevin... I'll meet you in the warehouse. Let's get to it." he finished.
With that, Mick, Kevin and Tim, all dispersed, leaving only Melanie and Clay standing together in what had once been a circle of discussion.
"What the fuck, Clay? Why do I get the feeling that you're leaving me out of this? Haven't I proven that I'm capable of contributing beyond preparing your meals? You're punishing me for arguing with you this morning!" Melanie said, quickly becoming angry with Clay for the second time that day.
Clay stood face to face with Melanie, reaching his hand out and grasping her shoulder before issuing her his reply.
"Melanie, I'm not punishing you. When I'm gone, you're filling my shoes. I need you to make sure someone is waiting for Mick and the others when they get back, and that someone else is watching for the truck so that when we get back, the bay door is open. I also need someone who can cover our entrance to the docks, should we require it. You're the only one capable of that." he answered.
Melanie remained silent, not being sure that she fully believed Clay's explanation. Truthfully, Clay had left her for all of the reasons which he had stated, but his desire for her safety had also contributed to his decision. During the battle with the undead at the apartment building, Clay had been spurred on by the memory of the girl who had attempted to escape the burning farm house, the night he had met Mel. Her screams would forever be ingrained in his memory, as would the sudden silence that befell her as the infected had successfully beaten her to death. He was quickly growing fond of the friendship that he had found with Melanie and was determined to prevent her from sharing a similar fate with the woman at the farmhouse.
"Fine..." she finally said in reply. "But you better not be lying to me."
"Come on. Keep me company, while I get ready to go." Clay said with a smile.
*****
It had taken them a while, but Clay and Melanie had successfully found their way through the warehouse and into the loading docks. As they approached the truck, Kevin's voice could be heard in discussion with Tim's, regarding the seating arrangements for everyone who would be heading to the lumber yard. Clay would be accompanied by four other men in total. Kevin and Tim couldn't seem to reach an agreement on how everyone should travel.
"Our only option, is to put us in the trailer." Clay interrupted the pair, as he approached the truck.
"That's what I've been trying to tell him!" Tim said in response to Clay. "But he's worried that whoever is in the trailer may get hurt should we need to... Drive evasively.”
Clay and Melanie stopped at the edge of the loading dock, whose bumpers were currently being squeezed tight by the trailer which had been pressed against them. Clay began to look around at those who would be going on the supply run, all of whom had fought alongside him at the apartment building.
"We really don't have much of a choice. There isn't a chance in hell that we can all fit into the cab of the truck, even with the sleeper." he replied.
"Alright, alright. So what's the plan then, Clay?" Kevin asked, after conceding to Tim and Clay's combined argument.
"You and Tim are in the cab. Mel has a pair of bolt cutters for you, just in case the gate is locked. It's your job Kevin, to get that gate open." Clay began.
Melanie stepped forward and handed the heavy pair of bolt cutters to Kevin.
"We'll all be waiting in the trailer, which will also be your job to open once we arrive." Clay continued to speak directly to Kevin.
"Tim, under no circumstance are you to get out of that driver's seat. As soon as Kevin opens the trailer for us to get out, turn the truck off. If you leave the truck running as we're loading the trailer, the sound of the engine will lead any infected within earshot directly to our position. We may not have the opportunity to button up the trailer before we take off, so you're going to have to pay attention to what's going on. If we're in a hurry to get the hell out of there, as soon as everyone is on board you get us moving. Understood?" Clay instructed, this time to Tim.
"Got it." he replied confidently.
"My shotgun is going to be in the trailer with us and should any undead try to board the truck while we are making our exit, we'll use it to fight them off. Outside of that circumstance, the shotgun is out of the picture." Clay said, turning his attention now to those who would be accompanying him in the trailer.
"Is everyone otherwise armed accordingly?" Clay asked, after receiving a nod from the other men regarding the appropriate use of his shotgun.
All who were present r
aised their weapon of choice into the air in response to Clay's question. In their hands was a mix of sledge hammers and axes of various description. Clay looked each weapon over, one after another, while nodding his approval.
"Well, I wouldn't want to square off against any of you while those are in your hands." Clay said about their chosen implements, drawing some quiet laughter from the men.
"Alright. Well... Let's get moving." Clay finished.
Tim and Kevin took off in the direction of the cab, while the other two men made their entrance into the trailer of the truck. Clay turned and faced Melanie.
"You good to go?" he asked.
Melanie leaned forward towards Clay, while grabbing a handful of his shirt in her fist.
"I hope you won't do anything stupid out there, Clay." Melanie said, with deep overtones of anxiety in her voice.
"Mel, everything is going to be fine. In less than two hours, we'll be flying through that parking lot and you'll be running down here to let us in." Clay replied, trying to ease her mind.
Melanie paused a moment and stared hard into Clay's eyes. To the best of his recollection, this had been the first time that his gaze had actually met Melanie's.
"I mean it, Clay. If you can't get all the wood we need, but you can get back here in one piece, then do it. I'd rather have you here, than have my own bedroom." Melanie insisted, having felt uneasy about the idea of this trip since its conception.
Clay gripped Mel's shoulder firmly in his hand.
"Melanie, relax. Just keep your eyes open for us, as well as Mick. It'll be over before you know it." he said.
"Now close up the trailer behind me and open the bay doors so we can get this over with." Clay finished, before turning and walking into the trailer.
Melanie couldn't shake the memories of her own previous supply run from her mind, as she swung closed the heavy trailer doors. Ultimately, it had been the failure of that same disastrous expedition which had saved her life. However, from it she had gained first hand knowledge pertaining to just how quickly the streets can go from quiet, to crawling with infected.
When the truck's engine roared to life, Melanie stepped away from the pluming exhaust and palmed a button situated on a pedestal at the end of the dock. The towering door began to lift, rolling itself up along the upper frame of the bay.
Melanie struggled to maintain her composure while watching the truck pull away from the safe enclosure of the warehouse, with Clay stowed away in its interior. Uncertainty towards how well she would continue to cope with the new state of the world had begun to gain a foothold within her thoughts, as she helplessly watched him disappear into the distance.
*****
Traveling as a piece of cargo would, in the back of a tractor-trailer seemed far more appealing at the time of its suggestion than it was in actuality. The trip for the men traveling in the trailer had consisted mainly of continuous heavy jostling which had resulted in them being bounced around the trailer's interior, along with vain attempts to prevent exactly that from happening. However, Clay had an inclination that they were beginning to near their destination as the truck had begun to turn more frequently. Although the additional changes in direction were unappreciated, the thought of soon being liberated from the trailer was a relief.
The journey as it had been experienced by those sitting in the comfort of the cab, had been plagued by its own form of discomfort. Tim and Kevin both had traveled in near silence, with their thoughts having been consumed by the looming prospect that at any moment their vehicle might be overwhelmed by the remaining infected that were occupying the small town.
As they came within sight of the gated entrance into the lumbar yard, Kevin finally broke the silence that had consumed the cab of the truck.
"Okay... We've driven from the store and all the way to the lumber yard, without seeing a single infected. Doesn't this just seem a little too easy to you?" he asked.
The imaginary horde that had been the primary contributor to the uneasiness of the expedition for the occupants of the cab, had in fact never materialized.
"... Maybe they all left town, thinking that everyone was already dead..." Tim replied, while maintaining his concentration on the road ahead of them.
The statement had made neither Kevin, or Tim, less uneasy about the missing undead. Meanwhile, in the trailer, Clay could feel the truck beginning to slow as Tim had initiated the vehicle's brakes. It had only now occurred to him, that while having fought beside these men during an earlier engagement and now facing the prospect of a journey containing another potential encounter with the undead, that Clay was entirely unaware of the names of the two men who had been riding in the trailer along with him.
"It just occurred to me that I haven't even bothered to ask your names..." Clay said aloud; the darkness in the trailer having prevented him from looking directly at either of the men who had been sitting across from him.
"Tom." said the man to Clay's right.
"Jamie." answered the man to his left.
"Tom, Jamie, you guys ready?" Clay asked, as the truck came to a complete stop.
Kevin leapt down from the cab, leaving the passenger door wide open as he ran towards the gate which was barring their entrance into the lumber yard. A chain had been strung through the fencing and was being held together by a simple padlock. Kevin squeezed a single chain link in the jaws of the bolt cutters, cutting it in two with relative ease. After swinging the gate aside, he waved Tim on through the gate.
Clay heard the big engine roar to life again and felt the truck slowly begin to move forward. Their agreed upon plan, had been mentally well rehearsed in the heads of all of the men. Clay was certain that the gate was now ajar and soon the doors would open; bathing him in blinding sunlight.
Tim had slowed the truck's movement only enough to allow for Kevin to toss the bolt cutters onto the passenger's seat and jump onto the step of the rolling vehicle.
"Go, I'm on!" Kevin said, struggling to remain quiet while still effectively communicating over the rumble of the truck's engine.
Luckily, the lumber yard layout was conducive for tractor-trailers to move about in. Kevin leaned far enough back to allow himself enough room to shut the passenger door of the cab. After having driven past several large stacks of plywood, Kevin pounded on the door, signalling to Tim that he should stop the truck. As the truck slowed to a crawl, Kevin leapt down from the step and ran towards the back of the trailer. The moment the truck had become static, Kevin climbed onto the trailer and after unlatching the door, he swung it open.
"We're at the plywood, but we've got to hurry. The gate was only locked with a chain and I had to cut it. Any infected that followed us will be able to walk right in." Kevin said hurriedly.
Clay, followed by the men who had travelled along with him, immediately poured out from the trailer. All had hit the ground running, moving quickly towards the stacks of plywood.
"Kevin, get in the trailer and try to stack everything we throw in!" Clay yelled back at Kevin.
Tim couldn't have come to a stop in a more perfect location. There was just enough distance to allow the men to move around each other, while still being permissible for them to load the truck quickly. One after another, the men tossed sheets of plywood into the trailer. Kevin, while doing his best to keep up with the pace of the three men running back and forth from the stack, was quickly becoming entrapped by the ever growing, crooked pile the men were forming. He had been responsible for retrieving the list of materials that had been generated by William, prior to the group setting out for the lumber yard. In almost no time at all, Kevin had estimated that they had gathered more than they required.
"That's enough, Clay! Let's go!" Kevin said, before jumping down from the trailer.
Better Lucky than Good (Records of the Resistance) Page 13
