by Mark Gordon
Chapter 31
Under Attack
Dylan and Sally stood arm in arm in the cold basement car park as the two bloodthirsty creatures charged at them. Their exit via the foyer stairwell was cut off and now they could hear the footsteps of the other creature from the lower level as it ran up the ramp. Sally wouldn’t have time get the pistol out of her backpack so they both looked frantically around the empty concrete structure for a way to escape into the daylight. 'This is the end', Sally thought, as she contemplated the terror of being eaten alive by these crazed hiders. Suddenly Dylan grabbed Sally’s arm and pointed to a corner of the car park. “Look!”
“Let’s go!” Sally responded, realising that it was their only chance at survival.
A small office-supplies truck that Dylan had checked earlier for sleeping zombies was parked by a goods lift with its back roller door open. They ran towards it as fast as they could, despite Dylan’s injured leg slowing them down. She could hear the creatures converging on them, their feet slapping rhythmically on the concrete floor as they ran. Sally reached the open truck first and leaped up into the cargo space. She turned and grabbed Dylan’s wrist, helping him up into the truck alongside her. The first creature was almost on them as they both snatched for the roller door and dragged it down until it slammed shut with a metallic thump, plunging them into darkness. Sally switched on her flashlight, and as they shot the internal sliding locks into position, the first creature slammed violently against the outside of the door, shaking the whole truck. Dylan and Sally moved to the back wall and slumped to the floor.
“Give me the pistol,” Dylan urged, wincing from the pain in his leg.
Sally took the gun from her backpack and handed it to him. “Do you think they can get in here?” she asked anxiously.
“I don’t think so, but I want to be ready if they do.”
They sat, breathing hard, with their backs against the wall, while the hiders threw themselves at the roller door outside, causing it to shudder violently each time they made contact.
“How long do you think they can keep doing that?” Sally asked.
“I don’t know, but they can’t keep it up forever. They’ll probably go back into hibernation when they realise that they can’t get to us.”
“I hope so.”
Sally shone the flashlight onto Dylan’s right leg. “That’s a lot of blood. What happened out there?”
“The extermination was going to plan, but just as I was about to shoot the fourth one, another one came out of nowhere. Maybe it was in a car, I’m not sure. It took me by surprise and we ended up on the ground. I think the fucking thing bit me! I managed to kill it but then the other one woke up and I had to run. I really need to get a more efficient weapon.”
“Let me look at your leg,” Sally ordered, concern obvious on her face.
“Its fine.”
“Oh yeah, right!” Sally challenged, almost in tears. “You’ve been bitten by a crazed freak that’s been eating people for the last few days and you say you’re fine! I’m sure they’re not cleaning their teeth before they go to bed! You could catch anything!”
Dylan looked at her for a second, and then burst out laughing. Sally tried to keep a straight face, but the tension and stress of the last few minutes drained away, she joined in. So as the beasts bashed and thumped into the aluminium truck body, the laughter of the pair rang out through the underground car park like a glorious celebration of their enduring, fragile lives.
-
When they were sure that the feeders couldn't get into the back of the truck, Sally checked Dylan’s wound. He trained the flashlight on his upper thigh, while Sally used his knife to cut the leg of his black jeans well above the knee. The wound looked extremely nasty. These creatures displayed overwhelming rage and Dylan had felt the full force of it. The deep bite showed distinct teeth marks and was still leaking significant amounts of blood. She needed to find a way to stop the bleeding, and she needed to do it quickly. She scoured the inside of the truck until she found a roll of paper towel, which she folded up into a thick pad, which she used staunch the flow of blood. Then she washed the wound with water from her drink bottle, and tore strips from her shirt before wrapping it a tightly round Dylan's thigh to hold the paper pad in place. Dylan was watching her intently when she looked up from her handiwork.
“I think you’ll need stitches when we get back to St Jude’s, but that bandage should stop you from bleeding to death until then.”
Dylan was still staring at Sally with a look that she couldn’t quite interpret. “What? What’s wrong? Why are you staring at me like that?”
Dylan smiled, “I’m so impressed with you. You’re so capable. I mean it, really. If you didn’t move quickly out there before, I think they would have got me. You’re remarkable.”
“Thanks. I guess almost being killed by psychopathic zombies brings out the best in me.”
“And you have a sense of humour.”
“You forgot gorgeous” she joked, flicking her dark hair dramatically.
“I was getting there. You are gorgeous," he said. "Very."
Sally blushed and started cleaning up the mess she’d made from her nursing duties. “Well, I guess I don’t have much competition, do I? Most of the women in the world these days aren’t you’re type, are they? They’re homicidal freaks who want to eat you.”
As if on cue, the truck shook as a creature tried to break through the thin metal wall. Sally looked at Dylan.
“Don’t worry, they can’t get in. We’ll be safe until they give up and go back to find a new nest."
He lay down on the hard floor of the truck and stared at the ceiling as Sally self-consciously continued to clean up.
“If we’re going to be here for hours I’m going to see if there’s something to make us more comfortable. Give me the flashlight.”
He handed it to her, and then watched as she unpacked boxes until she’d found enough packing materials to make a rudimentary mattress. “Here, lie on this” she said. “It’ll be nicer than that hard floor.”
After Dylan had made himself comfortable she asked, “Why do you hate them so much?”
“Who? The zombies?”
“Yes.”
“Because they’re dangerous. They need to be wiped out. Why do you think?”
“I don’t know. It just seems more than that. I hate them too and want them gone, but with you it seems personal or something.”
“I really don’t want to get into that with you right now.”
“Why?” Sally pushed.
“Because. Just leave it okay? It’s been a hard morning and we nearly died. We have a long wait ahead of us. Lie down and take it easy.”
“Are you hungry? I have some energy bars in my pack.”
“I’m starving,” he replied gratefully.
There was another thump on the side of the truck, this time less forceful. “They’re getting bored.” Dylan explained.
Sally sat down next to him and unwrapped two energy bars. She handed him one and they ate in silence. When they were finished Sally asked, “Do you think we can ever have normal lives?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we have our whole lives ahead of us, if we survive the zombies that is. Can we ever just be happy and feel ordinary?” Sally began to cry. “Will people have things to look forward to? Can we make a world worth living in?”
“We can try,” Dylan said, taking her into his arms and holding her closely as the flashlight batteries died and its beam faded away to nothing.
An hour later, as they lay together in the dark on their makeshift bed of bubble-wrap and shredded paper, the last feeble thumps of the creatures ceased and silence descended, absolute and perfect.
Soon it would be time to move on.
