Records of the Resistance (Book 1): Better Lucky than Good

by Shaun Meehan

  "This is... A pretty invaluable tool considering our situation. Are you sure that you want me to have this?" Clay asked, shocked by what he now held in his hands.

  "After what I've seen of you today, there are no hands that I would rather see that weapon in." he replied.

  "Peterson was crazier than a shit-house-rat... He was one of those paranoid, preparing for the end of the world types. Not like it did him any good. He was infected and never got a chance to see the apocalypse." the old man continued.

  "Not like he would have made much of a leader anyway... You on the other hand..." the man's words drifted into silence before he had finished his sentence.

  "What's your name?" Clay asked.

  "Just call me, Mick. Everyone in town already does." he replied.

  "Well Mick, you stay safe. I have a feeling that we're going to be working together quite a bit in the days to come." Clay said, his gratitude evident in his voice.

  Clay left the man with a smile and a nod and began to make his way along the remainder of the column. He counted thirty-three in total, including children of which there were seven, varying in age between four and sixteen. Through his interactions with the people, Clay had learned that most of those who had taken shelter there had originally not resided in the building but had instead sought refuge there. The residents had been hiding in a building which had been holding infected in the majority of its individual dwellings. Fortunately for them, the undead had proven that they had lacked the cognitive ability to turn door knobs. These conditions had generated such a high degree of stress, coupled with the unlikely chance of a rescue as time passed further, resulting in the population of the building suffering two suicides. Every night had been a torturous experience, listening to the howling and the banging of the undead contained within the neighbouring dwellings. This only further served to demoralize those who remained alive. Clay had not accounted for such occurrences having taken place among the people, and had rather expected a boost in their morale upon rescue. The coming days would require that these people assist in the fortification of the department store. A task which none of them were likely capable of in their current state of mind. Hiding and making an attempt to wait out the infected was not an option. The likelihood of the world ever returning to it's previous state before the outbreak during the lifetime of these people, was almost entirely improbable. Patience would only serve to aid in starvation, depression, and their eventual overtaking by a horde.

  Clay would have to look to certain individuals such as Kevin and Mick, to be leaders among these people and any others who would later join their group.

  "How's your family?" Clay asked Kevin, as he reached his position in the convoy.

  "They're hanging in there. I can't thank you enough Clay." Kevin replied, saying after a short pause.

  "I've been thanked a hundred times already, Kevin. I really don't know what to say other than you're welcome, which seems a little inadequate." Clay replied.

  "I have to be honest with you, Clay. After I looked down from the balconies at the infected who were blocking our escape, I truly believed that we weren't going to make it. I only continued because I would rather have died trying to get my family to safety, then live in this shitty situation without them." Kevin's display of disappointment in himself was easily evident to Clay.

  Clay recalled his thinking of similar thoughts, only moments before the attack. He had taken solace in the fact that should his plan fail, than at least he would be free from the days to come. Days which he was certain would gradually worsen as supplies began to run low. However, Clay had not let such a negative perspective on their situation garner any kind of foothold in his mind. Success depended on confidence. Confidence which he would display now in hopes that it would become infectious and inspire Kevin, who he would further require in the days to come.

  "We had a good plan, Kevin. Look... This isn't a cheesy Hollywood movie that we're living in here. We can employ tactics and weaponry, which are two things that the infected are incapable of doing." Clay said after taking a moment to generate a response to offer Kevin.

  "That's true..." Kevin replied, not sounding wholly convinced by Clay.

  "Kevin, our biggest threat is a large horde. Much larger than the one we just faced. Which we did without suffering a single casualty, only a few minor injuries." Clay continued.

  "Clay, I know. I just don't understand how we can continue living anything resembling a life with things the way they are." Kevin said, obviously feeling disheartened.

  "I can't tell you much about where we're going to be in a year from now, Kevin. But what I can tell you, is that eventually summer is going to turn to fall, and fall will turn to winter. The store still has electricity and with that comes heat." Clay said.

  "So the plan is to turn the store into our new home?" Kevin asked.

  "At least for the short term future, yes. We're going to fortify it and do our best with what is left of the summer, to increase our stores." Clay replied.

  "And if a horde shows up?" Kevin asked, having begun to sound more confident in Clay's idea.

  "By staying on the offensive and engaging the infected before they reach the store, we can prevent a horde from developing... Or at the very least, have some warning of its approach prior to its arrival." Clay answered.

  "Clay... You've gotten us this far in only a few days. You gave me back my family, using a plan that I thought was totally absurd. But it worked. I may not always believe in an idea's chances of success... But if your priority is keeping these people safe, then I'm happy to believe in you..." Kevin said.

  "Wow... That sounded pretty lame." Clay said with a smile, slapping Kevin on the back.

  "Shut up..." Kevin replied while laughing.

  Just as the two had finished their conversation, Melanie had stopped in her tracks. She had turned to the group with her hand raised in the air, signalling that the column should stop moving forward.

  "Wow, something's up..." Kevin said, motioning towards Melanie.

  "Head down the line and get everyone to take a knee. Keep them calm and quiet." Clay said, his tone remaining collected, yet still carrying a sense of urgency.

  "Here we go again..." Kevin said, before running along the line, passing on Clay's instructions.

  Clay began to walk cautiously towards Melanie's position, his pace dictated by the need to remain quiet. He began to pat himself down, ensuring that his tomahawk was securely tucked into his belt. After slipping his hand back into his brass knuckles and adjusting his shotgun which had been slung across his back, Clay drew the pistol from the holster located on his leg.

  "What have we got, Mel?" he asked, the moment he had reached her position.

  "There's something on the other side of the ditch. I can say that I'm certain that I heard movement, but I'm not sure what it was. It's not moving anymore." Melanie said, using the barrel of her shouldered rifle to indicated the direction from which the sound had emanated.

  Although the town was in development, elements of the old rural hamlet that it had once been, were still evident. The tracks were flanked on each side by a ditch which had thick, overgrown vegetation that was taller than a man, running along it's sides; forming a secluded tunnel that essentially divided the town into two halves. The tunnel allowed for the group to travel unseen, provided that they could remain quiet. However, with a column this large and with most of those within it carrying heavy loads, noise discipline was almost non-existent. Clay stood alongside Melanie, having gripped his pistol in both of his hands and raising it to eye level. He peered down the weapon's sights, attempting to discern what exactly had garnered Melanie's attention.

  Kevin had done well at forwarding Clay's instruction of maintaining silence in the column. The quiet was unsettling to those anxiously waiting in the column. Clay had begun to wonder if all that Melanie had heard was a bird flitting through the foliage, until the vegetation twenty feet to the front of Melanie and himself began to explode with mov
ement. Clay counted five infected thrashing about, entangling themselves as they tried to force their way through the vegetation that was barring them from reaching the tracks.

  "Drop 'em!" Clay ordered.

  Melanie and Clay began to alternate well aimed shots at the heads of the entrapped undead. They proved to be difficult targets to hit as they tore about in their entangled state. Even still, from Clay's perspective the event appeared more akin to an execution than it did a fight.

  From the column, Kevin was unsure of what was transpiring as the suppressed weapons were silently being discharged. He watched from his position, observing the vegetation in front of Clay and Melanie, twist and writhe. Than almost as fast as it had begun to tear apart, the bush’s movement ceased all together.

  The newly deceased infected hung grotesquely in the thick vines and vegetation, in which they had become entangled during their attempt to reach Clay and Melanie. Hanging as they were, they resembled nightmarish puppets whose strings had been abandoned abruptly by their puppeteer.

  Melanie lowered her rifle and looked to Clay, seeing his newly equipped pistol.

  "Where the hell did you come up with that thing?" Melanie asked, nodding to the pistol that Clay held out in front of him. She had not been privy to the pistol transferring hands unto Clay, due to her position at the point of the column.

  "A man from the apartments gave it to me. He had made the suppressor for the nut job that lived in the building, and thought it best that I should have it." Clay replied as he lowered the pistol slightly, all the while maintaining his vision on the tangle of infected.

  "Better lucky than good, any day?" Melanie asked sarcastically, quoting Clay's words from a few days ago.

  "You got it." Clay replied nonchalantly while returning the pistol to its holster.

  "We need to get moving. It's impossible to know if these infected had picked up on us while wandering, or if they were in transit to the apartment." he continued.

  Clay turned back to the column and waved his hand, indicating that it was again time to move.

  *****

  After a gruelling march, the group had reached the department store without further incident. Clay had never heard such a large assembly of people move as quietly as they had, after the encounter with the infected on the tracks. All passed the entangled undead along the rails, falling silent one after another as the perspective on their situation shifted from surreal and into reality. Clay assumed that many of the survivors had believed their trials would now begin to wane since being freed from the apartments. However, in seeing the fallen undead, they were coming to realize that their hardships were far from over.

  Clay, Kevin, and Melanie had crouched low in the ditch for a few moments, ensuring that the short jaunt from the railroad tracks to the back door of the department store was clear of any unwanted guests. The column waited as patiently as they could, their arms, feet and backs aching from the load which they had carried along their journey. Those who were capable of fighting stood vigilantly, watching for any movement around them.

  "Okay, Kevin. It's time. You're going first. Melanie and I will cover you from here, while you unlock the door. Melanie will follow after you and provide cover from the doorway and I'll start sending people over in small groups." Clay said quietly.

  "And if the shit hits the fan, again?" Kevin asked.

  "I'm going to send the whole group across and Melanie and I will provide cover as best we can." Clay answered.

  Kevin nodded affirmatively to Clay, then stood and slowly made his way to the door; his head darting from side to side in anticipation of approaching undead. After crossing the narrow asphalt lane and reaching the door, Kevin dug his keys out of his pocket. After inserting them into the lock, he rotated its mechanism. He struggled while attempting to pry the door with his finger tips, but a moment later had opened it as far as the hinge would allow. Kevin leaned against the inner side of the door, propping it open with his body weight.

  Clay remained still for several minutes, vigilantly watching for movement along the edges of the massive building. Once he had felt assured that Kevin had gone unseen, he placed his hand on Melanie's back indicating to her that she should now move. Melanie stood, shouldering her rifle and traversed across the lane way. She stopped a few metres from the door and knelt on the asphalt. From her position, Melanie could observe the tree line which ran along the tracks.

  Clay began waving on small groups of survivors, raising his hand palm out to stay the column should the group attempting to cross the drive become too large. Clay maintained his vision on the corners of the building, on guard against any infected that may be wandering the perimeter of the department store.

  After the final group had crossed the asphalt without incident, Clay remained in his position for what he had estimated to be approximately five minutes. It was his intent to be certain that their entrance into the relative safety of the store had not been compromised. Clay quickly crossed the asphalt once he was satisfied, and upon reaching Melanie's position he crouched down beside her. Melanie stood and turned, making her own entrance into the building while Clay took over her assignment.

  Kevin issued a quiet whistle informing Clay that Melanie had made it inside, who responded by making his entrance alongside Kevin; closing and locking the door behind them.

  Melanie had already found the headlamps and flashlights which she had placed on the floor beside the door just for this occasion. The moment she heard Kevin turn the lock, she activated the torches, illuminating the area around the cluster of survivors.

  Clay exhaled a long sigh of relief. He really had no idea what to say now that the rescue was finally complete. He hadn't really put much thought into the specifics of this moment, having felt that it would have been prudent not to focus too intently on what would occur should they find success.

  “Well, everyone. Welcome to your new home..." was the best that Clay could come up with.

  The survivors began to form a semi-circle around Clay as he spoke and responded with gentle clapping that quickly shifted into hugs, tears, and relieved laughter. Clay couldn't help but allow himself to smile as he watched the people rejoice. He observed Kevin as he hugged his wife and knelt down to embraced his son. The men that had fought beside him, whose wives were present were also hugging and crying, while those without were shaking hands with one another; celebrating their success.

  Melanie approached Clay and unexpectedly wrapped her arms around his neck, and received a one armed hug around her waist in return.

  "You did this." she said quietly in his ear.

  Clay's smile melted away on hearing Melanie's assertion of him being responsible for the completion of the operation. The thought of failure had haunted Clay from the onset of the mission. As he watched the quiet celebration he couldn't avoid imagining how differently this day could have gone for everyone now present. Instead of tears of joy and relieved laughter, there could have been screams of terror and cries of suffering. But here they stood, in celebration together.

  "Better lucky than good..." Clay quietly offered, in response to Melanie's praise.

  She released his neck and smiled at him. As much as Clay wished that he could allow the celebration to go on, he knew that certain tasks needed attending. All of which would require the participation of everyone. The well earned rest deserved by them all, hinged on their completion.

  "Everyone... Everyone..." Clay said, raising his palms into the air.

  The room fell silent in response to Clay's interruption, every head in the group swivelling towards his voice.

  "I'm sorry. I know that everyone would rather continue on as you are... I wish that we could. But there are still a number of things that need to be addressed before we can relax for a while..." Clay said regretfully.

  For a moment the room remained silent, until a large man who was resting a bat on his shoulder, broke the quietness. Clay had recognized the man from the fighting and observed him now as he took a step t
owards Clay before speaking.

  "I think I can speak for everyone here..." he said, after clearing his throat.

  "You risked your own life, for the sake of ours... A bunch of people you've never met before. None of us asked you to do that..." he began, then paused briefly.

  "What are your instructions? We'll make sure they get done." he finished.

  Clay had half expected a challenge from the man, judging by his tone and posture towards him. He instead received words of appreciation and a willingness to work together.

  "We're going to split into groups, and each group is going to have a team leader. Each team leader is going to be responsible for working with their group to finish their assigned jobs. Everyone okay with that?" Clay asked.