I pick up the rifle slung across my lap and stand, stretching my stiff limbs and shaking my weary head. The warehouse is huge, a playground to explore. I cast a glance at my sleeping companions and then start to walk, skirting wide around the dead body. I’m thankful it hasn’t been dead longer. I’ve sampled the odours of decay more than enough times over the last few years.
I find a set of stairs and swallowing my nerves I start to climb, loading my rifle as I go. I know the guys have already explored the place but one can never be too careful. Especially during such turbulent times as these. The top of the stairs opens onto a mezzanine with huge windows thick with grime, pockets of moonlight filtering through the cracks. I hook the strap of the rifle over my head as I walk to the windows. They’re stiff, age having welded them shut but after a much persistence I force one open.
It lifts and moonlight pours through, bathing the floor in its silvery glow and washing over my skin as the cool breeze kisses my cheeks. Everything in me relaxes. I take a moment to just stand there, eyes closed, and pretend that my life isn’t an endless battle to stay alive. That perfect moments like this occur every day. That I’m still that girl whose life, while not unflawed, was simple. I think of Jenna and Dan and even Brad. For all his faults, he was just a scared little boy in a world that was too big for him. True, he may have messed me around more than once but I believe that under all that bravado, there was a heart. That he did care, he just didn’t know how to show it.
My eyes flutter open and I move to the window, lower myself to the floor and let my legs dangle against the side of the building. The streets are calm, undisturbed except for the odd groaning rage of a crazy. Stars flicker in the night sky. I’ve never really seen the stars before, not like this. Back when we had things like electricity, the street lights would illuminate the sky and dampen the stars vibrancy until they were nothing but a gentle glitter. Now they shine in all their wondrous glory, spattering the inky canvas of the night.
“Thought you’d done a runner.” I jump out of my skin, swinging the rifle towards the voice. “Woah killer.” Sam steps from the shadow of the stairs, hands up and brows drawn. I lower the rifle, though I am tempted to point it at him a little longer.
“What do you want?” I turn back to the night, its beauty now swathed in cloud as if it means to hide itself from his unappreciative glare. Irritated I glare at my knees. I would rather be alone than share his company.
My attempts at hostility however go unnoticed and he crosses towards me, kicking dust up around me as he sits and rests his back against the frame of the open window. The silence is heavy, erasing the tranquillity I felt only moments ago. I slide my gaze towards him to see him staring out the window, arms rested against his bent knees.
“Thank you…for getting Kyle on that bus.” I lift my head all the way to stare at him, open-mouthed in my astonishment.
“What did you just say?” His eyes flick to me, mouth drawn.
“I’m not saying it twice.” He’s scowling but a slight twitch of his mouth gives him away. I smile at my thighs.
“You’re welcome.” I nod at him and turn my attention back to the street below. The groan sends chills down my spine but I don’t move, the infected wandering past with no idea we are watching. “Do you think they remember? Who they are? Who they were?”
Sam is silent for so long I think he’s fallen asleep but when I look at him he’s watching the man below us, eyes pinched in thought. Then he looks at me, his deep green eyes reflecting the moonlight, a lifetime of pain hidden amongst the hostility.
“I don’t think so. Once they become that…” he gestures to the groaning beneath us, “I don’t think there’s anything of the person you knew left anymore. They’re just surviving. Like us.” The way he says it, is almost…sad. Though my curiosity about the brothers poses a million questions inside my head, I don’t ask them. To have lost someone, whether it be from the virus or years before, the pain of it never leaves you. You carry the hurt, it shapes you, moulding you into something else until one day you look in the mirror and a stranger looks back.
My whispered words catch on the breeze.
“I hope so.”
…..
After a meagre breakfast, we get back on the road. The survivors of Leicester didn’t wish us well and send us off on our travels with smiling faces and jovial waves. In fact, they didn’t leave their homes. Instead they stared through the windows with nothing but fear lining their sorrowful gazes.
Natalie and Kyle are walking ahead, playing a rather morbid version of eye spy. They invited me to join in but in my opinion, no game should end with corpse as a viable answer. Drew strides to my right, Sam to my left. I’m stuck inside a man-wich, the men talking over my head like I’m a child who wouldn’t understand. I’d let it bother me if I weren’t so damn tired. The lure of the night sky kept me fixed to the window in the warehouse and despite our differences, Sam turned out to not be the worst company in the world. In fact, he was rather pleasant. Maybe he’s only a jerk in daylight hours.
“Hey Sam, look.” Kyle calls back, finger pointed towards a row of shops and restaurants. My heart leaps. Restaurant means bathroom and lord knows I could do with a wash. There are sewage works that smell better than I do. I shoot Drew a hopeful smile, complete with fluttering eyelashes and everything. Though he tries hard not to, he laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and ruffling my hair. I grin, jogging ahead to where Kyle and Natalie are already peering through the window of a cosmetics store.
“I know it’s completely vain and so not essential but what I would give for a little eyeliner.” Natalie sighs, stepping back to study her bedraggled reflection in the window. I study my own beside her, groaning at the limp knot that is my hair.
“A hairbrush would be great too.” Natalie nods, though her hair is so poker straight it looks perfect if just a little greasy. We turn to the guys, pleading with our eyes like adorable unkempt puppies. Sam and Drew exchange a look, shoulders slumping in perfect synchronicity. Defeat admitted.
Sam jimmies the door, pushing it inwards with his gun raised. Like every other shop we’ve seen, it’s like a tomb, years of dust coating every surface. It kicks up in clouds around our feet, shimmering in the sunlight that pours inside. Sam and Drew do a quick sweep of the place while Natalie, Kyle and I wait by the door, eyes on the street. I smile, watching Natalie hop from foot to foot in barely restrained anticipation. Girl really wants that eyeliner.
“All clear” Sam announces, shoving his gun into his waistband as he approaches with Drew close behind. Natalie takes off, disappearing out of sight. I’m a little more restrained, wanting nothing more than a hairbrush and deodorant. I was never big on make-up before when society demanded it. I’m certainly not going to make an effort for the end of the world. Footsteps behind me draw my attention and Kyle attempts a half smile as he follows me.
“Sam told me to come with you. Apparently, he and Drew don’t need me.” His shoulders slump as he stops beside me. Staring at him I feel sad. Sam loves his brother, anyone with eyes can see that but I get the feeling that being treated like a little kid hurts more than Kyle would ever admit. I pat his arm and return to my perusal of the shelves. Kyle trails behind me, hands jammed in his pockets and his expression sullen.
Working my way around the aisles I find a hairbrush, a new toothbrush and deodorant. I pass the tampons and my fingers hover over them. I haven’t had a period in a while, malnutrition taking care of that but who knows when they might kick back in again. I grab a couple of boxes, my cheeks flaming as Kyle lingers behind me. When I look at him however his lip is between his teeth, eyes glued to a shelf above me. I glance up, the scarlet of my cheeks ramping up several notches. I really need to learn control that.
Kyle catches my eye and throws me a sheepish grin. “You never know, there might be hot girls in Haven. We may need to repopulate the earth someday.”
“And condoms would be the way to do that?” Sam laughs. We spin
around, both our faces flaming. I want the ground to swallow me whole as he stands there, amusement dancing across his lips. With an incoherent mumble of what I think might have been words, I dart down the aisle, crashing into Drew at the other end. My treasures tumble to the floor, both of us dropping to pick them up.
Drew clears his throat when he picks up the tampons, his eyes widening as if he’s only just realised that yeah, I’m a girl. I snatch them back, deciding that this might actually be the most embarrassing day of my life.
“You get everything?” Natalie asks, stopping beside us with fistfuls of makeup. She scans my collection of essentials. “Tampons. Good thinking. Who knows when they’re gonna rear their ugly head again right? Only positive thing to come out of Armageddon.” She winks and takes off leaving me to wonder if you can die from shame.
Drew pushes to his feet, handing me my things with his composure back in place. I wish I could say the same. Without a word we part ways, him heading further into the store and me to find out if it is in fact possible to drown yourself in a puddle.
The others return as I’m packing my things into a plastic bag. Kyle is laughing once more, Sam striding beside him and ruffling his hair. The scene makes me smile, provoking a questioning frown from Sam. I shake my head and lead the way out the shop, pivoting towards the first restaurant.
Once the guys have done a sweep Natalie and I head to the ladies, the guys to the men’s, agreeing on ten minutes then we’re out of there. If there’s one thing I’ve learned during my apocalypse education it’s do not linger. Lingering equals dead.
Placing my bag on the counter I strip out of my clothes, Natalie doing the same beside me. It’s not as awkward this time round though my underwear stays firmly in place. I’m disappointed when there’s no running water but luckily Natalie thought to pick up some wipes. We clean ourselves as best we can, running dry shampoo through our hair. My new hairbrush tears at the knots of my wayward curls, bringing tears to my eyes as I push through undeterred.
“You and Drew have known each other a long time, right?” Natalie asks as she rims her eyes in thick black liner. I nod as I pull my hair into a bun at the back of my head, curly tendrils falling around my face. “What’s his type?”
I hide my smile in my bag. It amazes me how despite everything a girl is, and always will be, just a girl. Whether it be high school or the end of civilisation, conversations between girls always boils down to the same thing. Boys, and how we can get them to like us. Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning I straighten with toothbrush and paste in hand.
“It’s not really a conversation we ever had seeing as I was the only girl he knew left alive.” She smiles at me through the mirror. “But, knowing what I know about Drew, I would guess that his type is someone he considers his equal. Take me for example, I am a walking advertisement for damsel in distress. He constantly worries about me, and for good reason. I’m about as far away from Drew’s type as I think a girl can get.”
Natalie nods, taking in every word I say as if its gospel. “And your type?”
I squeeze the paste onto my brush and shake my head. “Cheating pricks mostly.” I shove the brush into my mouth, cringing at the severely diminished taste. Natalie raises a brow, smiling. I spit. “You’re not the only one who knows how to pick them.”
Lifting herself onto the counter she gets comfortable. “Do tell.”
I set down my toothbrush, swill my mouth from a bottle of water and spit the contents into the basin. I rinse my brush too, sighing as I think of the best way to explain Brad.
“My last boyfriend was a guy called Brad. Total douchebag. Cheated on me more times than I’ve had hot dinners and every time I went back to him and do you want to know why?” she nods. “Because I’m weak. Because I fooled myself into believing that everything he said, the apologies, the swearing he’d never do it again, that it was all true. Now I know I was just deluding myself. Jenna…” my voice catches. “Jenna always said I had daddy issues.”
“I hear you. My parents abandoned me the second I was born. Ever since then it’s been relationship after volatile relationship. My type was anyone that would tell me they loved me.” She shakes her head, smiling softly. “But, we survived and they’re probably all dead now so I think we won in the end.”
That’s debatable.
The door to the bathroom crashes open. I yelp, grabbing a towel to cover myself. Drew smiles an apology, his eyes lingering on a far from modest Natalie.
“Sorry girls but we’ve got company.” He darts back out the door.
“Shit.” I dress quickly, throwing my things back into my bag and hurry out the door with Natalie. The guys are hunkered down behind a booth, gesturing for us to get down as we emerge. Bending into a crouch I rush to Sam’s side, peeking over the booth. “What’s going on?”
Sam glances at me. “A group of guys just rolled into the street. They’ve been checking every building. They’re armed and don’t look like they ask many questions before pulling the trigger.” I peek again, see a burly guy with gun in hand squinting through the floor to ceiling windows. I duck back down.
“Where is everybody finding guns?” I whisper, my voice an octave higher than is normal.
“The army” Sam answers, pulling his own gun from his waistband. “When the soldiers fell to the virus, they left weapons and ammunition behind. It was just a case of finders keepers after that.”
The door to the restaurant creaks open, heavy boots smacking against the linoleum. You would think I would be used to the sensation of fear by now but the intensity shocks me every time and right now is no different. Sam shifts beside me, his hand on my back as he pushes me sideways. I meet his eye and he points to the next booth. I shake my head.
“Now” he whispers, shoving me from cover. I scramble along the floor and dive behind the booth, shooting him a murderous glare. Kyle follows next, then Natalie. I shift backwards to make room, turning onto my knees as I watch the guy step away from the bar, winding his way in and out of the booths. We need to move now or he’ll find us. With my stomach nestled somewhere in my oesophagus I start to crawl, picking my way amongst broken glass and sticky substances I have no desire to inspect.
I’m almost to the end of the bar when a voice makes my blood run cold.
“Hello girly.” I try to dodge out of the way but his hand wraps around my pack, lifting me to my feet as if I were a feather. “Where do you think you’re going?”
My hand wraps around the first thing it can find, smashing it into his head with a force I didn’t know I was capable of. The glass shatters and he releases me, hand flying to his face as blood pours down his temple. I don’t stop to see what happens next. The second my feet hit the floor I’m running, crunching over shards of glass and racing past the others who are still safely in their hiding place. Jumping up they follow, shooting blind as we pelt for the kitchen. Plaster explodes above my head. I dive for the door.
My feet slip out from beneath me, momentum sending me sprawling, my head narrowly missing the chrome counter. Sam hauls me to my feet, shoving me forward, barking for me to keep going. The door crashes open behind us and slams into the wall, bullets ricocheting off pots and pans that hang from chrome racks in the ceiling. Another bullet cracks over my head and I’m shoved to the floor as a body lands on top of me, hot ragged breath against my cheek. Sam lifts his torso, turning to shoot as he forces me into cover.
The creak of hinges snaps my head up. Drew hesitates in the doorway, eyes wide with indecision. I wave at him to run. His gaze locks with Sam’s and then he’s gone, door swinging shut behind him. I turn to Sam and pray that he can get us out of this. Throat bobbing, he checks his gun, head tilted as he listens for the sound of our assailant.
“I know you’re still in here you fucking bitch and when I get my hands on you, you’re gonna wish you were dead.” His tone is vicious and I have no doubt that he will make good on his words. I pull my knife from its sheath, fingers tense around
the grip. Blood stains my hands, revealing what I slipped in and I clench my jaw at the urge to vomit. Now is not the time for abdominal acrobatics.
Sam pushes up to one knee, urging me to do the same and points to the door eight feet away. If we can make it there, we can run like hell and hope they don’t catch us. In here we’re sitting ducks. I nod, preparing myself.
Sam lunges forwards, dragging me after him as he fires blindly over the counters. Tripping over my feet I tear after him, arms pumping. I’m yanked backwards and I swing around, ramming my knife into flesh. The man stares at me, eyes wide, my knife protruding from his chest. I gasp, my hand still wrapped around the hilt.
“Louisa come on.” Sam pulls me away, my knife coming with me, grinding against muscle as I yank it free and run. We burst out the doors but I can’t run any further as I double over, vomit splattering against gravel. Blood coats my shaking hand, new and old, the knife slipping from my fingers and clattering to the ground. Sam wraps an arm around me, tugging me away in desperation as I begin to hyperventilate. We’re running but I have no concept of my feet moving beneath me, motor functions kicking in with no effort on my part as my brain replays the look in that man’s eyes over and over until it’s all I can see.
Huge bins overflowing with the stench of decay loom ahead of us and Sam shoves me into a gap between them, forcing himself in beside me as I stare wide eyed at the blood dripping from my fingers. My body rattles as he shakes me, forcing me to meet his steely gaze.
“Pull it together” he snaps. “File it away for later. We don’t have time for you to have a mental breakdown right now.”
Easier said than done but I try my best. Clenching my quivering hands into fists I rise to a crouch, ready to run once more. Sam’s jaw twitches, surveying me briefly and then he’s sprinting across the car park, yelling following our escape.
We don’t look back as we disappear amongst the trees.
The Haven Series (Book 1): The Infected Page 8
