Better Lucky than Good (Records of the Resistance)

by Meehan, Shaun

  On the horizon, Clay could see the trees that were lining the edge of the road break, and the openness of the town coming into view before him. Clay squatted down into the confines of the vehicle, where Jamie already had the radio at the ready.

  Clay's voice squawked through the battered bus. The soldier who had been caring for the wounded had brought with him a radio to maintain contact with the other vehicles. They had been on the road for hours and this was the first time Melanie had heard his voice.

  "Almost in town. Everyone keep your eyes peeled for infected. We haven't lost anyone yet, and I don't plan on starting now." was all Clay said.

  The convoy sped through the city's main street, infected rearing their necrotic heads in the distance. Melanie watched Clay, as he expertly spun the turret to face every called out location of undead.

  Melanie could see the structure of the store forming ahead of Clay's silhouette. The sun was setting ahead of her, bathing the streets in a beautifully macabre glow. The town was in ruins. She hadn't noticed on the drive out, mainly due to their travel being done in complete darkness.

  "Wait..." Melanie asked out loud, more to herself than to anyone else. "What the hell are we going to do when we get there?"

  *****

  There must have been a lookout waiting for their return. The main entrance of the massive building was lined with people. Clay's people.

  The bus' brakes squealed as Melanie applied them. The moment the vehicle came to a halt, organized chaos ensued. She could here Clay issuing instructions to everyone awaiting their arrival. People were filtering in and out of the bus, assisting the new arrivals while Corporal Smith gave further instructions. Melanie watched as Jamie exited the vehicle in front of her, dragging heavy bags of equipment into the safety of their improvised home. Everyone was so busy... And she... She was so tired. Melanie raised her gaze from her hands which continued to grip the steering wheel, only to see Clay staring at her from his position in the G-Wagen's turret.

  "We made it, Mel... We're home." Clay said.

  It took a moment for Mel to respond. The significance of the days events had finally hit her. The church, Brooke, the little boy... Melanie finally released her grip on the steering wheel.

  "Yah. Yah, we did..." she replied quietly, forcing a weak smile.

  *****

  Kevin had made remarkable progress in his absence. Clay was presently standing in a janitor’s closet, which had been converted into a shower. The transformation was actually quite remarkable.

  Clay looked down at his newly acquired equipment as he rolled up the sleeves of his fresh flannel shirt. The shower was hardly the only remarkable transformation. His old shotgun had been replaced with a modified C8 rifle. The old shell belt that accompanied his shotgun had been replaced by a Tac Vest. The only previous equipment that remained were his tomahawk and brass knuckles. Not in a thousand years would he lay them down, to never be picked up again.

  Clay threw his new Tac Vest over his head and picked up his rifle, purposely neglecting to fasten the armour. Clay surveyed the interior of the store. He was surrounded by amazing people. Little rooms had been constructed out of the lumber and plywood which had been recovered the day before. Their construction was simple yet effective. Four walls and a roof, with only a mattress, some linens, and a few coat hooks on the wall. Clay could see Corporal Smith standing in a makeshift medical ward, with beds to his front and back. It was late and the interior was devoid of any light, save for that spilling out from the inside of the little huts whose occupants were still awake. That and the single light which was currently being used by Smith. There he stood, stethoscope around his neck and clipboard in hand. The Corporal looked up from his work, alerted to Clay's presence by his movement towards the huts.

  Clay stopped in his tracks, unsure of how he should react. Surprisingly it was Smith who moved first. Offering a nod and a half smile. The gesture said a lot to Clay. It said... You're doing it. You're getting the job done. Clay smiled in return and began walking to the hut which he had been informed was his own.

  Clay was startled by the sight of Melanie sitting on what he thought to be his bed.

  "Mel, I'm sorry... I thought this was..." Clay spoke, leaving his sentence to go unfinished while he craned his head back through the door way.

  "Your room? It is..." Melanie said as she rose to her feet.

  "Well, um... I'm not sure..." he began to reply nervously.

  "No, no Clay, not that. It's just... This is really awkward and I'm sorry." she stammered, suddenly becoming extremely embarrassed.

  "Alright, calm down Mel." Clay replied, stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind him.

  "I think we've survived enough together that by now you should know that you can say just about anything to me. Hell, you've never held anything back before, so why start now?" his voice was calming and effectively diffused the tension that hung thickly in the small room.

  "I feel safe... With you, I mean. Not because of some desire for a knight in shining armour, but because when you're around, you... Make me stronger." she replied, explaining her thoughts to herself as much as she was to Clay.

  The sound of his heavy vest landing on the floor was amplified by the close confines of the small hut.

  "Then stay." he answered.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Day 7, 35 Days Post Infection

  "Just hold still!" Melanie said, while attempting to further stifle her muted laughter.

  Despite his protestation, Clay had been awoken by Mel from his well deserved nights rest long before any of the others belonging to their growing community.

  "You know, I am capable of doing this on my own..." Clay cautiously replied, while doing his best to outstretch his neck.

  Presently, Clay was sitting in a chair with his throat lathered in shaving cream. Melanie had positioned herself slightly to his side, while still remaining behind him. Using her fingers, she gently tilted Clay's head back; exposing his neck.

  "Being able to do something, and actually doing that thing, is very different. Which is apparently your situation, because you've been scratching your neck since yesterday and kept me up all night with your jostling." Melanie said as she leaned over Clay, her stomach gently brushing against his cheek.

  “Just my neck... I’m keeping the beard.” Clay said.

  The smooth glide of the razor across his neck was audibly betrayed by an abrasive scrape, as the blade sheared the long hair growing from beneath Clay's jaw. To his surprise, Clay found himself slipping into a relaxed state. Allowing himself to close his eyes, Clay awkwardly wrapped his arm around Melanie's waist; finding the small of her back with his fingers.

  The sound of the razor against his skin was entrancing. With every pass, Melanie swished the blade around in a bowl of hot water which she had procured prior to awakening Clay. Since his return from the woods, Clay's days had melded into one chaotic blur. He had maneuvered from one situation to another without even a moment of relaxation. Sleep was done solely out of necessity and as their bodies had dictated. The relative safety that had accompanied their growing numbers had afforded Clay a chance to fully appreciate this luxury. Particularly due to the community remaining at rest, allowing him a moment to forgo his responsibilities.

  Three loud knocks echoed through the tiny construction, startling both Clay and Mel.

  "Ouch!" exclaimed Clay as the razor cut into his neck.

  “Oh, my God. I'm sorry!" cried Mel, as she grabbed a small towel and held it against the fresh cut.

  "Everything okay in..." Tim said as he pushed open the door and poked his head into the small room.

  "Oh shit, sorry!" he exclaimed as he quickly shut the door, believing he had just interrupted a much more intimate moment than he actually had.

  "It's okay Tim, come in..." Clay said, placing his hand over that which Melanie was using to hold the towel against his neck.

  "I'm really sorry, guys." Tim said as he entered the room.
r />   "What's up?" Clay asked.

  "I was just checking in. Some of the team leaders are up and getting ready to start the day." Tim answered.

  "What about Smith, and O'Conner?" replied Clay.

  "Ready, whenever you are. They were up before I was." said Tim.

  Clay knew that it was more likely that they had never gone to sleep. He had seen Corporal Smith tending the wounded and it was likely that O'Conner had assisted him throughout the night, rather than rest while his teammate was at work.

  Clay was moments away from answering Tim when Melanie cut him off.

  "He can go when I'm done, and I'll be done shortly." Mel said, her tone denoting that there would be no debating the subject.

  "Yes, ma'am." Tim said with a smile, understanding her completely.

  "Again... Sorry guys." he said with a laugh as he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  Melanie lifted the edge of the hand towel from Clay's neck.

  "It stopped bleeding. I'm so sorry..." she said, while inspecting the cut.

  Clay didn't respond, instead choosing to resume the position he had been in prior to being interrupted.

  *****

  By the time Clay and Melanie reached them, all of the team leaders as well as both Smith and O'Conner had already gathered together. All were casually standing or leaning, laughing or chatting. It was as if the world had returned to its former state.

  "Uh, hey guys..." Tim said, still slightly embarrassed.

  Muffled chuckles sounded from within though group at Tim's comment. Melanie and Clay shared a parting glance with one another, before Melanie removed herself from Clay's side and positioned herself next to Lindsay.

  "Aren't you guys a little over dressed?" Kevin asked sarcastically.

  Clay and Melanie had both joined the meeting bearing weapons and having donned their vests, as had Smith and O'Conner. Clay's team leaders on the other hand, were hardly dressed for an encounter with the infected. He wasn't sure if it was Tim's comment coupled with the groups laughter, Kevin's sarcasm, or the casual manner by which they were conducting themselves that had him so frustrated. The culprit mattered not. The community had known only success since the arrival of Clay, and were becoming over confident. The consequences of the false sense of security that had been developing within the walls of the store were unimaginable. A constant state of readiness had to be maintained by everyone, should they be prepared to handle the worst case scenario. Such as that witnessed by Clay at the farmhouse.

  Clay had roughly divided the people into loose categories, each with a team leader at their head. Jamie, being a capable shooter had been given the job of overseeing those who desired, and were able to fight the undead. Since her arrival, Lindsay had taken charge over the family groups within the community. She had a child of her own and could identify with those under her. Being an experienced driver, Tim had been the natural choice for heading up the drivers. The tasking however, went beyond just driving. Maintenance and repair were also a necessity. If the drivers required assistance with more complicated repairs, they could turn to Mick. Having proven his mechanical aptitude on several occasions, Mick was the perfect candidate. Modifying weapons, improvising explosives, and fixing anything mechanical fell right within his skill set. While Kevin had no obvious talents, he had been previously employed as a manager at the very building they were currently occupying. Although managing and leading were two different roles entirely, Clay could count on Kevin to ensure progress within the community in his absence. Kevin's experience guiding large groups of individuals made him an indispensable asset to Clay, when dealing with day to day matters.

  Clay had made it quite clear that after having been designated as team leaders, they were to find individuals within the community who showed promise in their trades. This had happened naturally for the most part, as people had a tendency to gravitate towards the jobs they were most skilled at. The teams were small, but would soon grow as their community gained strength. As their population increased, so would the necessity and importance of the team leaders.

  While the group lacked any sort of medical team, they did have Corporal Smith at their disposal for the time being. Forming a team of their own was quickly becoming a top priority for Clay. However, due to the depth of knowledge possessed by Smith, it was unlikely that he would be able to form a team without the presence of a medical professional.

  Melanie was the only person present, aside from O'Conner who lacked a team of her own. She had proven herself to be unique from any other individual whom he had encountered thus far. Melanie was the most capable of adapting to their new environment, completely abandoning who she had once been for who she was now. This was a trait that every living person should desire. Although reluctantly, Mel had become Clay's right hand.

  Serving as an inspiration to their respective teams, Clay couldn't possibly allow his leadership to demonstrate anything less than himself. They were after all, an extension of him and were about to get a lesson on that subject.

  "Over dressed?" Clay responded, his eyes piercing into Kevin's.

  "Yah... I mean... We're inside. There's no infected in here. We're safe." Kevin stammered, feeling a degree of unease at the way Clay was looking at him.

  Out of the corner of his eye Clay could see both Smith and O'Conner look briefly at one another, then shift uncomfortably where they stood. They had been in Kevin's shoes before.

  "Safe." Clay replied. "Really? You think you're safe?" he continued, becoming more angry.

  The area had become completely quiet, making Kevin's sigh resonate through their immediate vicinity.

  "Clay, I'm not sure what you want me to say here. We aren't soldiers. How are we supposed to know what to do?" Kevin asked, clearly already regretting his earlier comment.

  Kevin's argument was sound. How were they supposed to know? Clay paused briefly as his eyes skipped from one person to the next, until he had looked over each of the people before him. No. They weren't soldiers. However, just because you aren't something, in no way prevents you from learning to be that something. They would have to learn.

  "From now on, each of you will be armed and wearing a vest. Whether your role is that of combat or not, is irrelevant. As team leaders, you will always be ready to fight." Clay said, pausing for a moment before continuing.

  "I understand that none of you were prepared for this. Who could have ever predicted the outbreak? So, we all have a little catching up to do and we're all going to have to learn as we go. We have a lot of work ahead of us today guys and this routine is unlikely to change anytime soon. Your lives... All of our lives, depend on how we conduct ourselves on a day to day basis. We need to be prepared for anything, and ready to react to the worst case scenario at any time." Clay said.

  The area fell silent again. The brief speech had it's desired effect and his team leaders had all adjusted their posture. Everyone slowly moved towards Clay, forming a semi circle around him.

  "Just tell us where to be, Clay." said Tim, finally breaking the silence.

  "Corporal Smith, how are our new arrivals?" Clay asked, looking directly at the medic.

  "All but fifteen are ready to join the rest of the group and those who aren't, are in stable condition. I wouldn't plan on moving them anytime soon though. They're all on IVs, some of which I had to improvise. They're starving and dehydrated and aren't capable of moving under their own power. We got them here just in time. Most of them wouldn't have lasted much longer." Smith replied, in a manner expected of a professional soldier.