As each man threw their last sheet of wood into the trailer, they climbed into the back and had begun to continue Kevin's task of relocating the plywood away from the door.
"We're good Kevin, get us moving!" Clay said, as he tossed his final sheet in and pulled himself into the trailer.
Kevin took off around the trailer and hopped back up onto the step on the passenger's side of the truck cab. He pounded again on the door, signalling to Tim that it was time to move on. The pace at which the men had completed their first stop inside the lumber yard had been astounding. Kevin was beginning to think that the five of them would actually pull this stunt off.
The truck hadn't gone very far at all, before Kevin began frantically pounding on the passenger door again. Having become briefly consumed with thoughts of their efficiency, Kevin had come to his senses just in time to see that they had driven slightly past their next objective. Kevin reached up and wrapped his fingers around the door handle. However, before he could open the door to inform Tim that he would have to reverse the truck, Clay and the others were already on the ground.
Kevin jumped down and ran again in the direction of the trailer, which he reached almost simultaneously with Clay.
“Sorry, Clay." Kevin said, heaving himself into the trailer to begin stacking the lumber.
"Don't worry about it, just keep stacking." Clay said, before he turned to retrieve more material.
Yet again, the entranceway of the trailer had started to become overwhelmed with lumber. Kevin began simply tossing the long pieces from the doorway, towards the interior of the trailer in an attempt to keep up with the incoming lengths of wood.
"Alright, alright! That's enough!" Kevin shouted, struggling to keep track of how much lumber the men had collected.
Tom and Jamie threw their final pieces into the back of the trailer and climbed aboard. The pair began to assist Kevin in moving the wood to the back of the trailer, as Clay returned from what he thought would be his final trip.
"SHIT! Two more, Clay!" Kevin shouted, having realized that he had indeed miscounted during the chaos.
Without a word in reply, Clay turned and ran back towards what remained of the stacked lumber. After having quickly grabbed up two more planks, he spun and began to make his way back to the truck. Knowing that this would be his final trip, he quickened his pace, being less concerned about conserving his energy. As he passed the midway point of his return trip, Clay was unexpectedly hit hard in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. Unknown to the party, the infected had begun to infiltrate the lumber yard and could now be seen moving about through the story high maze of materials. Clay hadn't even recovered from the blow to his face, before he began to further receive vicious attacks to his head and upper body.
Before the men could move to lend aide to Clay, a blur of black and tan streaked towards him from unknown origins; propelled forward by four legs. The dog leapt into the air, powerfully clamping down on the back on the infected man's neck who had been mercilessly pummelling the fallen form of Clay. Both beast and man tumbled to the ground, but the canine’s grip on the man remained strong. The dog regained it's footing almost immediately and began to savagely shake him by the base of his skull with it's herculean maw. The fierce growl of the frenzied dog brought Clay back from his daze and into reality, just as the undead's neck broke. Clay stood dizzily to his feet and with the planks in his arms, began stumbling towards the others who had begun shouting at him in encouragement. The infected, while not far behind, were in no position to overtake Clay who had already tossed the planks into the trailer. Kevin dropped to the earth, attempting to assist Clay in boarding the truck.
"Go! Get us moving!" Clay insisted, pushing Kevin away.
Kevin bolted around the trailer, heading for the cab.
"DOG!" Clay shouted, looking back at his saviour. "Are you coming?"
The canine burst towards him like it had been shot out of a cannon. Clay bent down, picking the immense animal up in his arms and with the assistance of Tom and Jamie, loaded him into the trailer.
Tom reached down, grabbing Clay by the shirt and began pulling him into the trailer as the infected had closed to within ten yards of the truck. Jamie began to unleash an onslaught of lead courtesy of the shotgun, just as Clay had fallen on Tom after being pulled successfully into the trailer. The heavy truck jerked forward as it began to slowly pull away from the incoming infected, who were now trying to gain entrance into the trailer; remaining fearless in face of the gunfire directed towards them. Without even getting off of Tom, Clay rolled onto his back and drew his pistol. Now having fully regained his mental functions, he began to attend to the infected threatening their escape with his sidearm. The gravel road was covered in deep ruts, making it almost impossible for Clay to place his shots on target as the trailer jumped about along the road. Luckily for the escapees, Jamie had found success with the shotgun, having cleared the majority of infected from the rear of the truck. Try as they might, the infected were incapable of matching the increasing speed of the vehicle as it powered away. In the short amount of time required to make their escape, Jamie had managed to empty and reload the shotgun's tube magazine three times. Clay watched the infected as they chased the fleeing truck, noticing the trail of bodies that had been left behind as they drove off. Judging by the accuracy he had demonstrated and the speed at which he had reloaded the gun, Jamie was obviously no novice shooter.
Clay had to shout to speak, otherwise the road and engine noise would drown out his words.
"You've used one of those before?" he yelled to Jamie, while the wind whipped around in the trailer.
"Yah." Jamie shouted in reply. "I used to hunt ducks!"
Clay nodded, saying nothing in response, but making a mental note that Jamie should receive one of the shotguns they had liberated from the apartment building, upon their return.
Clay sat up, allowing Tom the room to wiggle himself out from underneath of him. This encounter had certainly been the closest call that Clay had faced since his return from the wilderness. Had the infected boarded the trailer, far greater consequences than the deaths of it's occupants would have occurred. The truck would have likely gained entrance into the department store without anyone having known that its cargo hold contained the undead within it. Upon its return, the infected would have been unleashed on the unsuspecting community, exacting unknown numbers of casualties before the situation could be contained. Should they decide to use the truck again, measures would have to be taken to prevent a similar scenario from taking place. Although they had made a mistake and survived, Clay was determined to never let it happen again.
"Hey!" shouted Tom. "We're heading in the opposite direction of the store!"
"That's a good thing!" Clay replied. "Some of the infected are likely going to follow us. This way Tim can lead them away from the department store, instead of directly to it!"
Now that their transportation had reached it's cruising speed, conversation had become almost impossible. The men had moved away from the trailer doors and sat with their backs against the interior walls. Clay hoped that Kevin and Tom would see the doors swinging behind the truck and drive accordingly. The trip would be for nothing should they lose their cargo, or any of the occupants riding along with it.
Clay leaned his head back against the trailer wall and shut his eyes. It hadn't taken long before he felt the cold wet nose of his new companion, brushing against his face. Clay had lost track of the dog's whereabouts in the trailer during the final chaotic moments of their escape. Without opening his eyes, Clay lifted his arm and wrapped it around the dog's powerful neck. Yet again, his life had been spared purely by chance.
*****
Melanie had positioned one of the men who had remained to assist the other's with the renovation of the department store, at the back door where Mick would reenter the safety provided within. She had left Lindsay in charge of the operations taking place on the main floor, leaving her free to situate herself in
the upper offices to await the return of the tractor-trailer. The windows which had been previously concealed by Kevin, had been partially uncovered by Melanie; allowing her a wide field of view through which she could observe. Knowing well that Clay had intended that she should be the one to lead in his absence, Melanie had chosen instead to vigilantly await his return. Having had been under similar circumstances that her life had screeched to a halt for the second time, she had become overwhelmed with unease and anxiety. Fatigue, both of the mental and physical variety had begun to plague her.
Just thirty-two days ago she had looked out the window of her apartment, with a cup of hot tea in her hands, while preparing for work. Prior to the outbreak, she had been a legal assistant to a local lawyer who had handled mostly land transfers and estates. Her job had consisted almost entirely of filing paperwork and answering phone inquiries, both of which were far removed from the tasks she had presently been assigned. With having no shortage of her own luck, she had turned on the television for the morning edition of the local news prior to leaving for work; not something she typically did. It was that, which had saved her from venturing out amidst the havoc of the outbreak.
Melanie absently stared through the window, all the while reliving her previous life by means of her memories. A brief moment of clarity descended upon her, while sitting alone in the quiet office. Who she was now, was vastly different from the person she had been prior to the outbreak. In comparing her past with the present, self-doubt had begun to rear it's ugly head. Without having any knowledge of Melanie prior to the outbreak, Clay had based all of his decisions regarding her current role on who she was presently. There had been no preconceived notions about her capabilities based on her past experiences, only what he had seen with his own eyes. Earlier, Melanie had criticized Clay for not accepting the role of a leader and had vehemently expressed to him that it was his decisions that had saved the lives of those who had taken up residency within the department store. All of the statements which she had made to him that very morning had been spoken honestly. However, the implications of her argument extended also to Melanie, as much as they applied to Clay. It had been Clay's decision to groom her as he had. In not having faith in the person she had become, she had inadvertently contradicted what she believed to be true in Clay.
Melanie's thoughts were interrupted by Lindsay, who barged into the office where she had been sitting.
"Mick's, back." she said, upon entering the room.
Should Mel continue to follow Clay, she would have to continue to trust in his decisions. Even if that meant believing in herself. Melanie stood to her feet, picking up her rifle which had leant against the desk she had been sitting next to.
"Stay here and watch for the truck." she said confidently.
Having had been able to sit alone in the quiet of the office, had given Melanie time to collect her thoughts and emotions. The brief reprieve had finished what Clay had started.
Melanie took off down the stairs leading to the main floor where Mick and his companions were awaiting her arrival. Their bags were noticeably heavy, being weighted with all that had remained at the outfitter's shop.
"Did you get everything?" Melanie asked, before even reaching the bottom of the staircase.
"Everything, along with the addition of a few more items." Mick replied proudly.
"Good. Did you and Clay work out what you should do once you got back?" Melanie asked, now having reached the bottom of the staircase.
"Yes." he replied.
"Okay. Take as long as you need to rest up and then get to it." Melanie instructed.
*****
Having successfully left the pursuing infected far behind them, Tim had long since begun their return to the department store which was presently now in sight. With white knuckles, he gripped the steering wheel, continuing to close the distance between themselves and the unopened warehouse door.
“Oh, for fuck sakes, just open the door!" Kevin exclaimed impatiently.
As if his statement had contained the magic words, the bay door began to roll open. Clay, along with the other men in the back of the trailer had long since recognized that they were approaching the department store and all had been bracing accordingly. Even their new canine companion, lacking a collar was being hugged tightly by Clay, who with his other hand was presently gripping a rail that ran along the length of the trailer's interior wall. Tom and Jamie, had maintained a vigilant watch for any following infected. However, thus far it appeared that Clay's plan had been a success, and lured the undead away from their true destination. It remained unknown to them if the diversionary tactic had proven equally as effective for Mick and his companions.
All of the truck's occupants tightly gripped whatever they could in response to Tim wheeling the big vehicle around. For the men sitting in the back of the truck, this would be the first time they had set eyes on the building that had become their home since the onset of their mission. As the trailer was being pushed backwards by the powerful truck, its reverse sirens wailed as it crept inside the interior of the building. Clay spotted Melanie, along with the men who had remained with her, lining the edges of the loading dock. Every individual waiting for them had armed themselves, ready to lend the truck assistance should it have been followed.
Clay knew that his absence from Melanie would only serve to bolster her own confidence and now witnessed her success in that, as she guarded the dock with the combatants.
The truck impacted hard into the dock's bumpers, jolting the trailer's occupants. One of the men on the dock immediately palmed a button located nearby the one which had been earlier used by Melanie, closing the large bay door.
Melanie and her cohorts nervously waited for signs of life within the darkness of the cargo hold's interior, being unaware of the status of those who had participated in the mission to liberate their required goods from the lumber yard.
Tom and Jamie were the first to step foot onto the concrete of the loading dock. Having spotted Clay's shotgun in the hands of Jamie, Melanie's heart immediately sunk as she assumed the worst. For a brief moment, she had become certain that Clay had met his demise in the lumber yard. Before Melanie could become overwhelmed by heartbreak, Clay stepped out of the shadowy interior of the trailer and onto the concrete beside his comrades. To the surprise of everyone now standing together on the loading dock, an additional companion had followed alongside Clay as he exited the trailer.
Melanie took a moment to reign in her emotions before speaking, lest they become evident to the group.
"You left for wood and returned with a dog?" she asked sarcastically.
"Had we not have returned with that dog, we most likely wouldn't have returned at all." Kevin said, climbing the stairs leading up to the dock.
"Why? What happened?" Melanie asked, having become slightly alarmed by Kevin's statement.
"Just as we were getting the last of the planks, the infected decided to show up. One of them knocked me to the ground, but this guy here decided that there would be none of that." Clay answered, petting the back of the massive animal standing beside him.
"What? The dog scared off the infected?" Melanie asked having had been confused by how an animal could have rescued Clay.
"No." Clay said with a chuckle. "He killed the damn thing. Jumped on it and shook it until its neck broke." he continued, obviously impressed by the formidable strength of his new canine companion.
Melanie slowly lowered herself to a crouch, meeting the animal face to face. After laying her rifle to her side on the concrete, she reached out and began to scratch the canine roughly behind it's ears. In return the muscular dog stepped towards her and pushed his forehead into Melanie's chest, obviously enjoying the attention being dolled to him.
"What are you going to call him?" she asked Clay, looking up at him while continuing to lavish the animal with affection.
Clay hadn't even thought for a moment about what he would call the dog, having assumed that it would have already
been given a name. Then again, the animal had no collar to identify it in any way.
"Lucky." he replied, half-heartedly.
"That's a stupid name for a dog that looks like this!" Melanie replied.
Better Lucky than Good (Records of the Resistance) Page 14
