Tracey heard the two men and their staccato conversation, but as she stared at the bloody trail that ran through the store, she found that their voices faded into the background. She followed the trail that led off from one a large pool – there were several areas of blood loss throughout the store – but this was by far the largest. The smear ran through the aisle, but in the wrong direction to the one Tracey would have expected. They all ran toward the back of the building. Following the smear through the aisle filled with breakfast cereals and hot beverages, Tracey began to shiver. The air seemed to have grown suddenly colder as she approached the rear. Knock it off Tracey she chided herself and carried out.
The bloody trail led right to the door of the freezer / chiller unit. The blood that had gathered by the door was not what Tracey would call a pool, but certainly it showed her where the bodies had been dragged and then left. Maybe they became zombies and he led them out of the front door. She reasoned with herself.
While Tracey was following the red scab road through the store, Alan continued to push Vijay into a conversation. The more the man refused, the more certain he became that there was something else afoot.
“Why did you save us? It strikes me as weird. I mean, if you wouldn’t help those others…” Alan tried again to dig for the information, and this time, unlike the previous seven times he had tried, Vijay gave a sigh and turned his attention away from the world outside.
“You seemed like nice people,” Vijay answered, but Alan could tell the words were false. His accent could not hide the lie.
“Okay, but you couldn’t tell. Those others there, they looked decent too. Young kids, alone, scared.” Alan pushed, but something resonated in his head like a gong struck in just the correct spot.
“They were trouble.” Vijay had grown nervous. He turned his attention back to the window, but was not the same statue-like figure. He struggled to get into any position that he could hold for more than a few second.
It also became clear that he had nothing else to say, so Alan turned around and looked for Tracey. He didn’t see her at first and the panic in his voice when he called for her made Vijay spin around. It was then that the pieces came together for Alan.
“It’s my wife isn’t it? You saw how those things left her alone because she was pregnant. You just plan on using us to keep yourself safe.” Alan stepped back, away from the man, for he had grabbed his shotgun as he turned.
“Where is she?” Vijay asked in an accusatory tone.
“She must have gone to get something else to eat. You know how pregnant women are,” Alan answered, his eyes focused on the barrel of the shotgun.
Tracey picked that very moment to both call out to Alan and give a startled cry of alarm, one following the other in a smooth flow of sound.
Alan ran after the voice, which had come from the back of the store, closely followed by Vijay.
“Tracey! Tracey where are you?” he called, but before she could answer, he spotted her, standing at the rear of the shop, against the freezer door. She was trying to open it.
“No, get away from there!” Vijay shouted, his accent heavier than ever. Tracey heard him, but it was too late to stop. She had turned the lock and pushed the handle down past the point of no return.
Alan was a few feet away from his wife, when the door to the freezer burst open and five bloodied zombies stumbled out of the dark with a rush of frozen air.
Alan jumped to the side, the moment he saw the first shadow pushed against the dark doorway. He grabbed Tracey had held her tight. Vijay however was not so quick on his feet. The years of working in a small shop had made him somewhat portly. He gave nothing more than an angry howl as the first zombie stumbled into him. A deafening blast ran out, as Vijay pulled the trigger on his shotgun. In a shower of innards and blood, a hole appeared in the chest of the lead zombie, and managed to injure the next in line. Yet both continued, unaffected. Alan saw Vijay through the hole in the creature’s chest, but as the group descended, only his screams told of his presence.
“We need to run! Here, use this door.” Alan grabbed his wife and hurried her through the fire exit. As they moved past the row of breads and sandwiches, which occupied the rear corner, Alan grabbed an armful of whatever he could carry and followed Tracey out into the world.
They closed the door and stood with their backs against the wall. The alley was empty, but the same could not be said for the streets at either end.
“We should have helped him. He saved us,” Tracey stumbled over her words. Everything had happened so fast, her brain and body had yet to catch up.
“He only saved us to save himself. He saw how those things ignore you, I guess because of the baby, and he wanted to use you for his protection,” Alan answered. While he did not know it for certain, the actions of the man, and the fact that he had zombies trapped in the store with him, added up and pointed toward but one theory.
Tracey said nothing, and when Alan looked at her, he saw that she was trying hard to hold back the tears, which he could clearly see, were burning her eyes.
“We just need to keep moving. We will find an empty place and settle down. We can wait it out for a while. We have some food, so we can make it a day or so. I mean a house would have some food in it, too.” Alan gave his wife a kiss and then studied the alley. “We came from this way, and we know that there are several zombies standing around out there. So I guess we should try this way.” He pointed to the left. I think that's the road we take to get to our street. If so, we can skip around to the right, follow the road, and try to find something in the older houses around the football stadium.” Alan wasn’t a sports fan, but even he thought it was interesting to live so close to the local stadium. He knew that the team was in the top league. Whether they were any good or not, he had no clue, but the idea of going to watch the odd game didn’t strike him as being anything unbearable.
Tracey understood that they needed to get off the streets. Her back ached, and her ankles had started to swell. She could feel them straining against the side of the trainers she wore.
They emerged from the alleyway onto a deserted road. Once again, all of the cars sat neatly in their spaces. They made quick progress through the once busy street. Tracey only stopped once to rest, but got moving quickly thereafter, when she looked through the window of the car she had chosen to lean against and saw two blood soaked children’s seats strapped into the back seat, including a baby carrier. The windows were broken, and the jagged tips stained with dark crimson highlights. A child’s stuffed toy, a pudgy faced doll, lay by her feet. It too was covered in a scab of dried blood. Tears burned her eyes and throat as she forced them back.
“Why can’t we just stay here?” Tracey asked. The street was still empty, and the houses loomed large over them. They were old buildings. Most had four floors, with the majority being divided into two-story apartments.
“It’s too close to the road. Plus look at all the damage,” Alan pointed to the open doors, broken windows, and blood stained brickwork. “Who knows what is waiting inside? I want to get away from the road, a few streets in. If we can find a place that looks untouched, we’ll stop there.” He stopped as they came to a fork in the road. Opposite them was a small park, and in the center of it, a small children’s playground. It was fenced off and gated to allow the youngsters freedom to roam, and had acted as a perfect containment area. Seven zombies had somehow been corralled into the area, and the gate was not only locked but blocked shut by the wooden boards of a park bench, which had been ripped apart for that very purpose. The metal frame of the bench still sat in its concrete fittings, naked and alone. At the sight of the two figures entering the street, the zombies, who had been docile until that point, became as agitated as a tank of piranhas at feeding time.
“We need to get off the street,” Alan called, as he ran his eyes over the houses. He didn’t want to be that close to the road, but if they could move through a house, and into the street that ran behind, then they sho
uld be out of the way of any large groups that may happen to come through. He watched The Walking Dead. He understood how things worked.
When Tracey gave no answer, Alan spun around, and was surprised to see that street behind him was empty. “Tracey,” He called out, further enraging the locked up crowd. Alan looked in their direction, his heart in his throat, and gave a startled cry when he saw Tracey walking toward them. He ran after her, but she turned around and told him to stop.
“Trust me,” she called back. With every sinew in his body set on edge, an electric buzz covering his skin at the thought of his unborn child being in danger, Alan waited. He forced himself to stand still, even to retreat.
Seeing her husband listen to her request, Tracey turned back to the zombies. Their eyes were set on her, but once again, they stared at her stomach, a look of intent in their eyes. Something about it suppressed their hunger... all but one of them.
One, a large, heavyset man with a long beard, gelled to a fine point by blood, paid the rounded belly no notice. He snarled, and clawed at the air. It was almost comical to see such a large man, easily close to six-feet-six tall, struggling to overcome a three foot high fence.
Tracey stood opposite the group, unsure of what her next action was to be. Her initial intention was lost, wiped from her mind by the fear that now held her still. She watched as the group slowly began to regain their aggressive nature. The snarls started, like those of a cornered dog: a gentle warning, followed by a bark and ultimately…a bite. By the time all seven zombies were snapping and swiping at the air, Tracey was back at the house.
“What was that?” Alan asked the moment they had shut the tall front door. They had tried six houses before finding one that was unlocked. A body greeted them the moment they stepped into the living room, the only room that sprung from the small square hallway, which led directly onto the staircase. The owners of the house, a husband, wife and presumably an adult child – or lodger – had suspended themselves from the oak beams that were to be found in all of the properties on the road. Their faces were purple, their bodies already starting to bloat.
“Keep moving. I want us to head out the back and find another place out there. We will be hidden from the road but close enough to run for help if it comes through,” Alan spoke, whispering in case anything else lurked in the shadows of the house. The curtains were drawn. The final act of a respectable family, hiding the shame of suicide, even when convinced that it was their last available option. The electric wheelchair in the corner of the room told Alan a little more about their lives, and ultimately, their decision.
He shuddered when he realized that already, after but a day or two, he was neither fazed by death, nor could he feel the loss and grief, which hung in the air like smog.
“I can’t go on any more, Alan. I need to stop.” Tracey held her belly in both hands, cradling it as she planned to cradle the child when it arrived.
Alan looked at his wife and saw how exhausted she was. Her skin was clammy, her face drawn, eyes sunken. It looked as though she had aged a decade or two in the few hours they had been away from their marital home.
“Okay, we can rest up her for a few minutes, but we really need to find a new place to stay before it gets dark.” Alan comforted her.
While Tracey rested in the kitchen, having no desire to sit in the living room with the rotting chandeliers, Alan checked the rest of the house. He was gone a long time. Tracey was beginning to get worried, but just before she stood up and went to look for him, Alan returned.
“The house is empty. We’re safe for now. So why don’t I go and see if I can’t rustle up something to eat?” Alan clapped his hands together, his demeanor somewhat changed since his departure.
“Why? I thought you wanted to move somewhere else. What changed?” Tracey asked, skeptical of her husband, who at times could be as stubborn as they come.
“Nothing,” Alan answered quickly, turning his back on Tracey so she would not see the fear in his eyes.
“Alan, tell me the truth. I can tell when you are lying.” Tracey rose, but sat back down as a cramp seized her lower back rendering her temporarily immobile.
“Fine, we’re trapped here. I was up on the top floor. I looked out of the window and all I saw was them...the zombies. Not a whole city, but hundreds, and they are moving together, like a wave. If we move now and run into them, we wouldn’t stand a chance.” Alan watched the words sink in as Tracey’s face went through a number of expressions before settling on one that he guessed to be defiance.
“Fine, we wait here. We’re safe and warm. We can wait them out.” She rose and hugged Alan tight.
“I hope you’re right,” Alan whispered.
“How far away are they?” Tracey felt the sudden compulsion to ask. She felt Alan stiffen against her, and knew the answer before she whispered it to her.
“They’re here.”
The first few zombies moved past the window. The shadows were long, twisted images; misrepresentations of their true form. They soon disappeared, however; replaced by the mass as it swept down the street. Car alarms sounded and startled the herd. A strangely unified growl filled the air as they all turned in search of what made the noise. With their attention diverted, the group’s momentum was lost and their progress stalled, leaving the house surrounded.
“If they are here, can’t we go out through the back?” Tracey asked, ensuring that she kept her voice to little more than a gentle exhalation.
“I won’t risk it,” Alan answered.
A scream rang out from outside. It was joined by several others a few moments later. Everything fell silent not long after, as the group descended. Their growls and sheer number overrode the sounds of death, and for that, Tracey was grateful.
“I’m going to check the window. Stay here,” Alan whispered to his wife. His hands rested on the curve of her stomach, and for one moment, he felt the baby push toward his hands. It wasn’t a kick. It seemed as if his child was reaching out to him for comfort.
“No! They will see you.” Tracey had felt it too, and the tears came in a flood. Much like the zombies, they could not be stopped.
“It’s okay, honey. There is a hole in the blinds. I can look through without them ever knowing,” Alan whispered as he stepped away, walking backward, waiting for Tracey’s approval, or continued resistance.
He bumped into the leg of the older man who hung from the ceiling. It made him jump, but somehow he stifled the gasp that leapt into his throat. That was until the corpse began to struggle and snatch at him. Cold, dead hands settled on his head and grabbed at his hair.
Alan could not help but shout. He unlocked his knees and sunk to the ground, before jumping out of the way. He ripped several large chunks of hair from his head, and could feel small rivulets of blood flow from the wounds on his scalp. Terror soon overrode the pain however, for all three figures had come to life. They growled, scratched and kicked at the air, and while the rope that cut into the flesh chocked their cries to an extent. Alan´s gasp had been more than enough to alert the herd that waited outside. They pressed against the house, and the main front window began to creak. They hammered against the door, which shook and splintered in its frame. They house began to shake from their frenzied advance.
“What do we do?” Tracey screamed. All need for quiet was long past.
“Run…out the back. That group was smaller. Maybe they haven’t gotten into the side street yet.
The pair sped through the house, leaving the three dangling zombies behind them. If felt as though the temperature had dropped even further as they left the house and entered the deep garden. The property was well kept, and they both saw the gate at the far end, which would lead them to the street. Unlike their previous two accommodations, it was not an alley that ran behind the house, but another, albeit smaller, road. Houses lined the street in semi-detached pairs. Finding shelter in one of those was their best bet, and it was that incentive which Alan used to power him forward.
&
nbsp; They opened the gate as they heard the shattering of glass coming from the house behind them. The herd had found their entry point.
“Go! Stay against the wall. Move left, alright? When I saw them, they were coming from this direction.” Alan pointed to the right, as if his words needed an explanation.
Tracey merely nodded, and moved in the direction Alan shoved her. The street was far from empty, but the smaller group that Alan had seen was still some way off.
“Move! Move now!” Alan urged as they fled down the street. One of the houses had thick black smoke coming from inside, and the smell of the flames was unmistakable.
“Where are we going?” Tracey screamed as the herd began to close ground.
“We need to put some distance between us all. If they see what house we enter, we are doomed.” Alan was by her side and held her hand. A double-sided action, for it allowed him to comfort her while simultaneously forcing her along at a pace quicker than she would have been able to maintain alone. “Lean on me. It’s fine. I can take it,” he spoke as he felt Tracey begin to struggle.
They reached the end of the street with the gap between them and their pursuers lengthened. The large herd still had, for the most part, their attentions drawn to the house, car alarms and second group of survivors their presence had spooked out of hiding.
“Here! Down here,” Alan called. They turned onto the dissecting road and moved back toward the busy road they had tried so hard to avoid. Moving as quickly as possible, Alan chanced a look over his shoulder at the very same moment three large zombies appeared from behind a white panel van. Their mechanics overalls were stained with grease…and blood. One was missing his left arm. The other two had multiple bite wounds to their neck and shoulders. All were missing fingers and had clearly put up a good fight.
One of the men reached out and grabbed Alan with a hand as large as a shovel. The power in the grip made light work of the multiple layers, which at that moment only served to limit Alan’s mobility.
Diaries of the Damned Page 20
