Brad wondered, “Where do we go next? It’s been a year now, and I don’t know what the future is going to bring.”
The sheriff cocked his head. “The same place we’ve been going for the last year. Survive, do the best we can with what we’ve got, and do our damnest to train up the kids. Live or die, they are the future, such as it is…”
4 Them or Us by Alice J. Black
I woke to the sound of scratching. It wasn’t a mouse or a rat, or anything of the four-legged variety. Want to know how I know? It was followed by a moan.
It was one of them. The zombies.
My hand was on the knife as soon as I heard it. I held it out just in front of me as I threw my blankets aside and stood up. On the other side of the caravan, Jed still slept. I rolled my eyes.
Nobody knows how the zombie apocalypse started or why. I woke up one morning and it was on the news that some man had bitten a woman and they were both in accident and emergency. Now, six months down the line, the why doesn’t matter; the only thing that anybody cares about anymore is survival.
Jed rolled over and grunted, pulling the wool blankets tighter to his chest. His arms were thin, the t-shirt he wore too baggy on his frame. I’d only met him a month ago when I was between places but I felt like I’d known him my whole life. That’s all there was now; me and Jed. And the zombies.
“Jed,” I hissed, glancing at the door as something thumped against it.
“What?” he asked in his pseudo-awake voice.
“There’s a zombie outside.”
He waved his hand. “We’re fine as long as it stays out there.”
“It could be attracting others.”
He waved his hand again and smacked his lips.
“Jed!” This time I was a little more forceful.
“Fine.” He sighed, throwing the covers back dramatically and staggering to his feet. His hair was askew and his jeans wrinkled. Even now after all this time, sleeping in our clothes had become a habit; being ready to go at any minute was important.
Two things I’d learned about Jed in the month I’d known him: he’d lost everyone, just like me—just like everyone—and he liked to sleep way too much.
“I’ll jump down.” He was already unlatching the hatch on the roof and had scrambled through it before I had a chance to respond.
Not wanting to fight zombies was nothing to do with the fact that I’m a girl. I’m not entitled or squeamish. I’ve learned to fight—I’ve had to—and can take down a walker like the rest. It’s Jed. He sees me as a daughter. I’ve seen the photo he keeps in his wallet a few times and I realized how much I looked like her; blonde hair cut in a short crop, delicate green eyes, rose lips and soft cheekbones. He told me her name once—Zoe—she was seventeen, too. But she got bitten and had not recovered. Jed had never recovered from having to end her life.
There was one morning just after I’d met him that I went outside to pee—we hadn’t found the caravan by then—and he charged after me a few minutes later and ran into me mid-stream yelling about being stupid. After the initial embarrassment—him more than me—he apologized and then he asked me—not told me—to never go out alone. That’s what happened to Zoe. She went outside to get something and she was bitten by a crawler.
I listened to him and I hadn’t gone out alone since. Part of me liked the idea of being looked after, but the other part worried that by letting him take over, I was putting myself more at risk. If I forgot how to fight it meant Jed had to stick around forever and I wasn’t naïve enough to think it was a possibility.
The caravan rocked and I heard the thump of his hiking boots as they hit the ground. It was followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor and I imagined his hunting knife going straight through the skull of the walker.
I heard the sound of the body being dragged along the ground—Jed likes to keep our place tidy—and then a few minutes later the door opened and he strode in.
Dusting his hands together, he grinned. “What’s for breakfast?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Hey, killing zombies is hard work.” He held his arms out.
I shook my head. “Our food supplies are gone.” My stomach had woken me up early that morning to let me know.
Jed’s jaw opened and closed. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“You’re here, too, Jed.” I flung out my hands. “I’m not a homemaker.”
“Okay, I deserved that, but still, are you sure?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “That tin of beans we shared last night? That was our last meal.”
“Shit.” He dropped back to the sofa that doubled as a makeshift bed. We’d taken up a side each, padding it out with cushions and blankets. The table in the center acted as a makeshift nightstand. It wasn’t too comfortable and I’d fallen off the narrow seat on more than one occasion when I rolled over in the middle of the night, but it was better than where we’d been before; an abandoned warehouse with cardboard box beds.
“We’re going to have to go out there.” I pointed to the window. The curtains were drawn—they always were—but we both knew exactly where I was pointing; the supermarket. It was around half a mile away over a road that was vacant and a tarmac car park. From our distance, we couldn’t see much more than that but since finding the caravan we’d stayed clear. Shops of any kind were a looters’ paradise and, though we knew the place could still have food on the shelves, we also knew the dangers. Zombies. Zombies in a locked environment. Looters. Others survivors.
I’d been lucky to meet Jed. Others I’d seen along the way weren’t so nice.
“No.” He drew a line in the air with his arms. “No way we’re going in there. It could be crawling.”
“You’re right, it could be.” I nodded. “But the way I see it we’ve got two choices; we either go in there and deal with whatever we find or we sit in this tin box until we get so weak we can’t move and the zombies get in and eat us.”
“Jesus, Emma. Do you have to be so dramatic?”
“Do you have to be so nonchalant?”
“How do you know a word like that?”
“Well, before the world went to shit, I went to school and I learned. Hell, I actually liked school.”
“Keep your voice down.” He held his open palms in the air.
Taking his cue, I lowered my voice. “I’m smart, Jed. And I can fight. If you won’t go over there, then I will.”
“You’re not going.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “I bet you’re the lightest you’ve been in a long time thanks to our bad diet. I could bowl you over and get out that door.”
“I’d chase you down.”
“Then you’ll have to chase.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I rushed towards the door. Instead of planting his feet like I expected, Jed jumped out of the way. I hit the handle and jumped the small distance to the ground. The morning air was cool, the sun not yet over the horizon. The grey sky stretched out in front of me, leering over the supermarket in the distance.
“Emma, wait!”
Instead of listening, something I’d fallen into the habit of doing despite the fact that up until a month ago Jed was a complete stranger, I walked.
I was alert, scanning my surroundings to make sure I wasn’t about to be mauled. There were no walkers in sight. Still, I kept my hand at my belt, ready to draw my knife.
A few seconds later I heard footsteps behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Jed. He caught up and matched my pace. Turning to the left for a moment, I glanced at him. I couldn’t help but notice the grey sprouting through his beard. I was pretty sure that wasn’t there when we first met. The apocalypse took its toll on us all.
“Did I ever tell you how much you are like her?” he asked.
“Beautiful and smart?” I asked.
“Stubborn and headstrong.”
I smiled.
***
From the outside, the supermarket looked e
mpty. There were no walkers milling around the cars or in the glass front of the store. I saw a couple in the distance, shambling beside the nature park, but if we kept quiet we wouldn’t draw their attention.
“What do you think?” Jed peeked over the bonnet of a car. He was crouched on one knee, his blue jeans stretched to their limit. The red paint of the car was beginning to fade after being exposed to the sun for so long.
“Now you’re interested in my opinion?” I whispered, a habit I’d developed shortly after it all started, along with the ability to play a wholehearted game of hide, don’t seek. Staying quiet and being able to hide were good skills to have in the zombie apocalypse. That and being able to push grief aside. The dead didn’t spare a moment of respect. You had to stay alert at all times.
Jed glared at me before returning his gaze to the shop. “It looks empty from here, but I know it’s not.”
“There’ll be walkers in there, no doubt about that. But we’re going.”
“That’s if we can get in.”
“The double doors, they used to be automatic.” I pointed. “Now they’re propped open by a body.”
“How do you know it’s not a zombie just taking a nap?” He glanced at me.
“Firstly, walkers don’t nap and secondly, his brains are leaked all over the pavement.”
“You have a wonderful way with words.”
“Come on.” I stood up. The longer we waited, the more excuses Jed would think up. He knew as well as I did that going in there was our only option. Food, shelter, safety. The three most important things for us to continue surviving. Without one of those we were goners. Moving around him, I passed the car and started walking towards the shop. I heard him sigh, then he lumbered to his feet and jogged to catch up.
“Stay alert,” Jed warned, as he came up alongside me. “And let me take the lead.”
“Whatever you say.”
I didn’t mind taking a back seat. As much as I’d been the one to push us to this point, I was scared. Jed was right, the supermarket would be crawling. And there could be more than just walkers in there. We had to be quiet and we had to work together.
As we approached the doors, I unsheathed the knife from my belt, gripping it tightly in my right hand. I realized that already in the short time I’d known Jed, I’d come to rely on him a little too much. I would let him take the lead now but once we were in and we’d cleared the floor I was taking my own route. I’d survived five months in a brutal and dangerous world without him; I could continue to do so.
Jed stepped over the body that lay in the door, careful not to disturb it. The hands that splayed from the shirt cuffs were grey and I knew that if I cared to touch him, I’d find his fingers stiff as rigor mortis took its hold. Most of his head was gone, replaced with a mass of gore, some of which had been lapped up. I chose to stare ahead, focusing on Jed as I followed him through the still doors into the supermarket.
Most power had disappeared when the apocalypse began. There was nobody left to keep anything running and, slowly but surely, everything ran down. Even the back-up generators had long since fried. Jed had been looking for a portable generator since we moved into the caravan but so far he’d found nothing. The bottle of gas we’d hauled from the center of the caravan park was just about empty and we needed fuel unless we wanted nothing more than cold beans for the rest of our lives.
“It’s quiet,” Jed whispered, stating the obvious.
I said nothing, just continued following him. He skirted around a display of empty cardboard boxes that would have once been filled with crisps that had been on offer. Now it was empty except for the body of a young woman. Most of her right arm and leg were gone. I saw something moving within her flesh and quickly looked away.
Moving around the corner of the box, Jed stepped past the electronic sensors that lay dormant between the checkout area and the door. He was right, it was quiet. Too quiet.
Jed stopped and turned to look at me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
I swallowed, hard. Now that I was here, all I wanted to do was turn around and run back to the relative safety and complete familiarity of the caravan. Blood pumped through my body double time and my heart was racing in my chest. I didn’t want to do this, but sometimes logic was overruled by need, and in this case it was never truer. Without food we would starve. It would be stupid to let ourselves become nothing more than shells—zombie bait—and this was our big chance. All we had to do was take a look. Even from where I stood I could see some of the shelves were still lined and while I was sure that most of it had been picked clean, I knew that we would be able to find something.
Finally I nodded. “We have to.”
I expected him to ridicule my quieted brazenness but instead he simply nodded. “We scout the shop, make sure it’s safe, and then we loot.”
The plan sounded good to me. “Okay.”
With his knife in hand, Jed took the lead and dutifully I followed. We made our way along the bottom of the check outs. Most of the till registers had been broken open, their contents spilled or stolen. I shook my head. Money was no use in this world. Our currency was food, water, shelter. Most of our needs were made up of finite supplies and that’s what made other survivors so dangerous. We were all in the same boat, we all needed what the other had and there was only so much of it to go around.
The behavior of the dead could be predicted; that of the living could not.
We walked all the way along to the end of the shop, both of us scanning each aisle as we went. I saw items scattered on the floor, packaging ripped open. Bodies lay strewn where they’d fallen. A woman was curled into a trolley. She fit perfectly because her head was missing. I saw an empty pram, a bloodstain marring the pink blanket, a toy on the floor in a pool of blood. I didn’t realize I had stopped until Jed nudged my arm. I tore my eyes away from the scene.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.
I nodded. It was the right response to give, but we both knew that it wasn’t true. How could you walk past a sight like that and be okay? It was impossible.
The apocalypse had brought so much death and destruction. It almost felt like the world had stopped turning and for so many people, it had. But this. The sight of the pram, blood smearing its inside, would be a sight I’d never forget. The walkers, they didn’t discriminate. Anything that was living or breathing was a target from newborn to pensioner and everyone in between. I wasn’t surprised to see it; it just hurt.
As the virus had taken over, spreading through towns and cities, it was covered by the news. It was the only thing on the news. The maps showed up like a red rash and soon there weren’t news reports anymore, just the emergency screens on every channel. That’s when things got worse. It forced people out of their homes, into the streets, looking for answers, looking for help. They found nothing but death and destruction.
I still wondered at how I’d managed to get six months into a zombie-infested world. I was just a girl. My parents were killed in the initial onslaught as the zombies invaded our home. I went into shock and spent two days hiding in my room trying not to make a sound as they stalked around the house looking for me. They knew I was there. I knew they were coming. It was an eventuality. We were at a standstill.
Of course my room contained nothing even close to a weapon and I’d had to use my swimming trophy to bash their brains in when the door finally caved. Killing my parents, ending their lives, was the hardest thing I ever had to do. After that, I could deal with anything. I left the trophy lying on the floor covered in my parents’ blood and I left the house with nothing more than a backpack with a few essentials. I still carried it now, but the essentials inside had changed. Water, food, weapons, as opposed to the sentimental items I’d originally brought from my home. I had no use for them; they did nothing but weigh me down, physically and emotionally, and I couldn’t have either if I wanted to stay alive.
The harsh reality of the apocalypse had made me learn that there was no
time for grief, that life was only temporary, and that I should live each day like it was my last. Meeting Jed had diminished my fierceness but now I was here in the supermarket and I wasn’t about to go home empty handed, no matter what it took.
I came back to reality as a moan to my left snapped through my memories. A walker lurched up from behind the till, hands grabbing for me. I jumped back and slid my knife from my belt. The walker had once been a woman. Now its blonde hair was falling out in clumps displaying a decaying skull. Its jaw hung open in a permanent growl. Recovering and taking a step forward, I thrust the knife through the eye socket. It gave and the walker went limp beneath my hands, slumping to the floor in a heap.
“You okay?” Jed asked.
I turned to look at him. I nodded. “Fine.”
“Looks like we’re all clear,” Jed announced. The end of the world was telling on a person. On Jed it wore on his skin, in the multiple lines that had developed on his sallow skin, his cheeks sagging from the weight he’d lost too quickly. The bags under his eyes were dark, almost purple, and the whites of his eyes were spider-webbed with red capillaries.
I’d avoided looking at a mirror for weeks. Longer, even. The one that graced the small bathroom in the caravan was broken and I was grateful for not having to see my reflection whenever I went in there. I didn’t need to see a mirror to know how tired I looked, to see that my eyes had lost their spark and that I too had lines that marred my face like that of an old woman.
“I say we split up.”
Jed shook his head. “No way.”
I sighed. “Jed, we’ll cover more ground that way.”
“I don’t care.”
“You said it was clear.”
“And as far as I can see, it is. But we’re not splitting up.”
I thrust my hip out as I stared at him. “You do realize you have no claim on me whatsoever.”
“I know.” He held his hands out. “But wherever you go, I’ll follow.”
Apoc Series (Vol. 1): Whispers of the Apoc [Tales From The Zombie Apocalypse] Page 7
