by D G Leigh
“Let's get off this bridge.” Leslie started the squad car, a photo insert of the cop's family hooked on the keychain. “I've got somewhere we can go.” Being his prisoner Jo had no choice in the matter. “My name's Leslie. I'm a building contractor.”
“Jo.” Foolishly went to shake his hand through the barrier. “Botany student.”
“Not too smart!” Leslie joked, nodded their mutual friendship. “I've been prepping another project just a mile or so from here. It's a family run diner. All boarded up while under reverb. We haven't started gutting it yet. Still got all the mod-cons fitted. It's the best place I can think of. That's my play until the authorities clean their mess up. Hey! Once we're there take a look around, if you want to bail be my guest but I'd rather you didn't. Tooled-up one on one you'll be okay but in numbers those..... loons ….. are dangerous.”
“What do you mean their mess?”
“Isn't it always?”
“It has something to do with this red weed. That police officer wasn't my first encountered. The surfer I was with touch the stuff. Looked more like a type of honeycomb cactus than seaweed? Sent him psycho.” Jo welled up.
“I'm sorry. How'd long were you together?” A natural question.
“We weren't to........”
Leslie cut Jo's answer off. “What the?” All four highway lanes taken up with on coming cars fleeing the city. “Hold on!” Veered the cruiser down the steep embankment. Ploughed into somebody's beautifully landscaped garden. Smashed into its glorious centre piece stone fountain. The front bullhorns took the full brunt of the impact but underneath the engine got wrecked. Driver's airbag deployed. Jo wasn't so fortunate, her body slammed into the unforgiving partition bars. Winded she remained laying on the floor.
Over the noise of speeding traffic and the ringing in his ears Leslie heard a little girl talking to him. “Sorry, I thought you were a policeman.” Susan had been hiding in the garden's concealed tool shed, the hedge encouraged to grow over it. Only came out because she thought help had arrived. Turned back towards the rickety outbuilding.
“Hey wait! That's not a safe place.” Blinking Leslie surveyed his surroundings. Not far from the diner. Used water from the fountain's broken catcher to clean the airbag's explosive powder from his burnt face. “I've got a much better place we can hide.”
“I'm not suppose to go with strangers, you know.”
“That's good.” Leslie agreed with her. “Yeah, you're right.” Crouched down. Held out his hand to beckon her.
Susan moved farther away. “Strangers tried to hurt me this morning.” Soothed her hurt arm. “I rode my bike as fast as I could. Fell off.” Started snivelling.
People screamed in the distance. “I need your help honey. Please don't walk off. I am a policeman.” Jo stirred in the back of the crippled patrol car. “I'm escorting my prisoner to a safe house.”
Susan not buying his bullshit story for a second. “Where's your uniform?” Folded her arms.
Leslie laughed at being out foxed by a kindergarten kid. “I'm undercover. You know what that means don't you?”
“Yeah, I've seen it on TV. Does your boss yell at you all the time?”
“Sure does.!” The pair shared a smile.
Susan began to open up. “My mummy sometimes tells me off to.”
“How old are you?”
“I'm seven, almost eight.” She added.
“Almost eight, that's perfect. It means I can officially make you my Deputy. What's your name sweetheart?”
“Susan Shaunessy.”
“Well Deputy Shaunessy you work for the President now.” Leslie rushed the conversation along. The neighbourhood echoed with sporadic gunfire.
“Do I get a badge?” Susan took his hand.
“Soon, once we're all safely inside.” Leslie helped Jo to stand. Handed her Wynedecker's Baretta. Fully putting his trust in her. They positioned themselves to protect Susan.
“Why'd you give her your gun?”
Leslie can't hold Susan's hand and be effective with the shotgun at the same time. Passed the little girl over to Jo's care. “It's okay. Jo's a good prisoner!” Susan accepted this, undeterred by Jo's gory appearance after killing Carl an hour ago. “The restaurant is two blocks that way. You can't miss it! Big sign says Mel's Diner.” Pulled a funny face.
“Hey, Mum and dad eat there but it's close at the moment. It's broken.”
Stroke of luck. “Can you show Jo the way?” Leslie knelt down next to the pedals. Prodded his arm inside without averting his attention from the garden's boundary.
“Sure can! I know a secret way.”
“Where're you going?” Back at the bridge Jo had wanted to leave, go her own way but now she didn't want to part company, felt safer with Leslie in charge.
“Don't worry about me.” Glance under the deflated airbag for a second. Finally found what he was looking for. Popped the cruiser's truck. “I'll be right behind you.” Instructed them to leave. “There's a key above the rear exit.”
--- Four ---
Jo arrived at Mel's boarded-up diner. The door didn't open.
“It's locked!” Franticly pulled the handle. Around her frightened people ran past, attacks coming from all directions. Majority of survivors dressed in their nightwear. The streets in chaos. Jo beyond any fear she's ever known. Not thinking straight.
“It's above the door remember!” Susan tried reaching, far too small.
Jo snapped back to reality. “Yes! Of course.” Her fingers retrieved nothing. “It's not here?” Standing on tiptoe continued feeling in vain. Every sound a threat.
Susan tugged at Jo's zip until the wide eyed adult finally noticed. Wanted them to climb into the restaurant's industrial bin, close the lid tight. Not a bad idea. Upended better. Jo started to heave.
Lumbering as fast as he could carrying two large kit bags slung across his shoulders Jo relieved to see Leslie approaching. Dread expression on his sweating face told her everything she didn't want to ask. The barrel of his12-gauge smoking from discharge.
What were the pair doing? “Open the bloody door?”
“There's no key?”
“Don't be ridiculous!” Leslie's hand scurried along the top frame.
“Don't you think I tried that a hundred times!”
“I don't understand? I put it there myself.”
“Hurry!” Jo urged as a bunch of bloodthirsty zombies broke through the treeline.
Leslie definitely didn't need any prompting. “I know!”
“I mean it!” Readied her gun. Worried that the shots might attract others.
He'd blow open the door. Barricade it from the other side once inside. Stuck the12-gauge against the lock. “Look away.” No need their attention elsewhere. More zombies filling the street.
“Wait! Are you looking for this?” Susan held up a long key.
“Yeah! Where'd you find that? Doesn't matter.” Snatched the key away. “Clever girl.”
She frowned disapprovingly. “That's very rude you know!”
“Ground me later little Miss.” Flicked the lights on. Made sure the interior appeared clear before letting the girls enter. Susan directly sat down at her favourite booth. Found the milkshakes menu under the dust covers. Made herself right at home.
As Leslie swung the door close another oddly moving figure emerged from the undergrowth. Waving his arms, human. Marauding zombies all around didn't take any notice of him.
“Close the door?” Jo baffled. Hadn't lowered her gun. Periodically checked the place out. “What're you waiting for?”
“There's somebody coming.” Leslie leisurely watched. “Very peculiar?”
Susan peeked over the restaurant's tall menu. “Is it somebody for me to play with?”
“You're putting us all at risk. Close the bloody door.” She'd shoot him and the shut the damn thing herself if it came down to it.
“He's normal!” Leslie flashed Jo a vile look. She's right of course but didn't mean he had to like it. The
guy too far to leave the exit open. Without making eye contact with the poor defenceless soul Leslie sealed the door good and proper. Shoved a weighty drinks dispenser against it. The diner's main entrance shielded by a solid security shutter. For the first time since this morning they were all able to a rest.
Leslie threw the two bags filled with goodies he'd taken from the patrol car onto the counter. Thankful to be free of their weight. Standard procedure now days all units carried anti-terrorism kits, he'd done well.
--- Five ---
First priority wasn't food or water, information the hunger that needed to be quenched. Leslie frisked the premises looking for the remote to turn on the big screen used in happier times to show sporting events.
Jo came across the restaurant's children colouring sheets and crayons. “Here you go honey.” Laid them out in front of Susan facing away from the screen. Once Leslie got the TV working she knew the broadcast would be graphic. “Colour me a pretty picture.”
Unable to find the controller. Leslie stood on a chair. Fiddled on the side panel, the screen came on without audio. Shocking images make him back away from the display. Sound wasn't necessary. They're part of it. Happening outside right now.
Once you've stopped running you breathe the deepest. “My God!” Jo held the table for support. “This isn't real.” Left Susan concentrating on fun in the park activity sheet. Took Leslie's hand. Their clasp shaking.
Live news report came from Oahu. Swat teams blockaded Waikiki's three linking bridges. Shot live rounds. The fire department defended Kapahulu Avenue, used powerful water hoses to drive back the hordes. A column of army tanks tore their way through downtown, parked cars crushed beneath their tracks. Every beachfront rooftop people crammed pleading for rescue. News choppers at the risk of being overrun themselves sat down others hovered as close as possible, some survivors in desperation leapt to their deaths as zombies breached roofs. Air force crews had different orders, contain rioters with extreme prejudice. Gunners opened fire at a crowd which had broken through a military choke point. Impossible to tell if they were civilians or infected? Children among the targeted.
An earlier newsflash played. Shaky footage taken from mobile phones. The same honeycomb cactuses that Jo had come across. Onlookers gathered around them.
“Are those the things you saw?”
Jo nodded too scared to speak. The normal sunseekers beach paradise transformed into a strange alien landscape.
As the next sequence started Jo wanted to warn the unsuspecting investigators, pointless the recorded events had already occurred. A garbage man poked the red husk. Others rushed to his aid as he convulsed in agony. Bit several responders before being restrained. Those he'd attacked quickly turned on the rest. Their numbers increasing exponential. Spreading faster than could be contained. The last video taken from a store security camera showed a businessman pursued into oncoming traffic, hit by a car. The chasing zombie pounced onto the bonnet, licked the blood then went after the driver.
Leslie pulled out a bottle of Bourbon from the storage cupboard, knew where that was. Didn't bother with a glass. Took a large swig. “The authorises know what's happen. Measures will be implemented. We'll just have to wait it out.”
Jo dumbfounded. “Wait it out? It's complete mayhem.”
“What can we do?” Took one final mouthful, screwed the lid back on. “I was due to start work here next week. There's plenty of drink in the cellar but the fresh food all been thrown. I'll check the freezes.” Before leaving offered the whiskey to Jo.
“I'm a minor!” The strangest thing for her to say considering.
“Wouldn't hurt, considering.” Leslie left the bottle on the side. “I won't tell if you don't.”
“Actually I'm going to go to the restrooms. Get cleaned up. Do you want to come Susan?”
The little girl too busy colouring. “Nah!”
Jo turned off the TV. “Don't go near the door or windows.” Susan not strong enough to shift the drinks machine. “Or make any loud noises.”
“I know the drill.” She'd done pretty damn well on her own before these two bossy adults came crashing into the garden. “Mr Leslie, you said I could have a badge.”
No fooling this girl. “Yes, I did. I'll bring you one back.” Leslie took his shotgun to the kitchen.
“And a milkshake, please, chocolate.” Pointed to a picture. “With sprinkles.”
“Sprinkles!” Leslie sighed, this could turn into a rather long wait looking after a child. “I'll see what I can do.”
--- Six ---
Two fully stocked and well organized walk-in freezes. Enough food for months, if need be. As long as the power held out, why shouldn't it? See how things go over the next few hours? Perhaps pack all the food into one unit. The other steel box might be needed as a last result stronghold if those things broke in here. Another defensible area would be the basement. Move the can goods down there. Reinforce the hatch, camouflage it if possible. Leslie reckoned that in the long haul other survivors might come scavenging for supplies. A single skylight above the bar posed a weakness and possible entry point. He'll need to fortified that for an extended strategy plan.
A roll of shiny tinfoil, folded a piece into star shape. Prime substitution for Susan's police badge. The disused milkshake machine cleaned and emptied. Leslie found a tub of chocolate ice-cream mixed that with a glass of water, never considered if tap water was still safe to drink or not. If they didn't have a supply of fresh water they'd die before the week's out.
--- Seven ---
Before going to the restroom Jo tried the diner's reservation phone line plus the payphone in the lobby, a dead tone returned on both. A door next to the toilets marked private lead to the office and staffroom. She'd already inspected both for penetrable flaws. There's other stuff she wanted, a change of clothes for starters. Broke open the employees lockers. Found a pair of jeans and a Mel's Diner uniform shirt.
Washed her weary face and yucky hair with hot water. Hoped the slash would miraculously wake her from this nightmare, it didn't. She wasn't dreaming. Carl's rinsed out blood stained the sink Overcome with today's atrocities Jo broke down. Alone she sank to the floor cried privately. Thankful she'd learnt something, you couldn't become one of the infected unless you touched the honeycomb or got bit.
--- Eight ---
Leslie entered the dining area. Susan nowhere to be seen, had she gone with Jo? Placed her chocolate shake on the table next to the half finished colouring page. A tiny shoe protruded from underneath the booth. Lifted the corner of the dust cloth. Found the little waif murmuring uneasily in her sleep plus the missing TV remote.
Leslie hardy recognised Jo when she returned from the restrooms. As well as a fresh change of clothes she'd applied some make-up. Felt the better for it.
“Watch yourself behind the bar!” Warned her.
Saw only another ordinary decorator's sheet draped over the floor tiles. “Why?”
“I've laid out a road stinger.” He'd been shifting through the police holdalls and listening to TV reports during her absence. The spikes had been the last item he'd taken from Wynedecker's cruiser. Only took it because he'd room left in the tactical-bags.
Jo raised an eyebrow. “I won't steal your Bourbon, if that's what you're worried about?”
He wasn't in the mood for jokes. “It's positioned below the skylight.” The news grim. It wasn't just Hawaii affected by this God awful outbreak. “Take a look.” Clicked through the channels, most were the same broadcast looped. Found what he wanted to show her. “This is Japan.” Flamethrower teams protected by rattled troops edged towards foreboding honeycomb spires. Began incinerating them. The end result truly shocking, some infected people stopped charging towards the living and instead leapt on top of the fires in an attempt to douse the flames with their bodies. Made no screams as their flesh blistered and cooked.
“They're not crazy.” Leslie saw beyond the pictures. The implications to what he's suggested didn't bare thinki
ng about. “They're actually protecting the plants. Being controlled. Not mindless killers.”
The Philippine Islands bulldozed huge beach trenches, filled them with fuel, set ablaze in desperation to block the weed from claiming any sort of landfall. Citizen wide coastal curfew in place. A pitiful number of domestic crop sprayers flew over the algae bloom dispensing an accelerant followed by co-organised military strike. Warheads burst into hundreds of smaller bomblets ignited the soaked chemical slick. Dense purple smoke faded the scene out.
