Aftermath (Book 2): Chicago Calling

by Duncan McArdle

  “You’re welcome”, Andrew replied sarcastically, a statement he immediately regretted.

  John gave him a look in response that was so rage-filled it could drive any man to retreat.

  “Sorry”, Andrew quickly added.

  Chapter 16: Barricade

  Once tempers – and heartbeats – had calmed down significantly, Sonja and Andrew began looking through the store. Its rear was better stocked than most areas, but had clearly still been the victim of some last minute panic-buying. Only a few of the more non-essential items remained in any real quantities, with the rest found sporadically and mostly strewn around. John though was more interested in security, and so proceeded to do another quick sweep of the building.

  Checking every crevice, every darkened corner, and every shelf, it took a while for him to conclude that the place was safe, especially thanks to the sound of heavy rain causing him to repeatedly think something nearby was moving. Eventually though, he returned to the others – who had so far only managed to find a single pack of batteries, a second hammer, some cable ties and a couple of saws – and notified them of the good news, before preparing for the next stage.

  The rear double doors were mostly glass, something John was grateful for. Looking through them he could see it appeared to be safe out, and better yet, an enclosed space. But as always, he didn’t want to take any chances, so Sonja and Andrew quickly fell into position behind him, and the three prepared to leave together, guns raised and ready, prepared for whatever they might find.

  John swung the door open first, moving through it as it finished its opening manoeuvre, and then the others cautiously following behind into the rainy outdoors, Sonja occasionally checking to their rear in case a new threat somehow presented itself. The area outside was reasonably compact, covering an area of around six or seven square metres, and was filled for the most part with lumber samples to promote its sister company, the same one the group had raided just a little while earlier.

  One other find however was that of plants, a lot of them, each as dead as could possibly be imagined, giving off an incredibly morbid feeling to all of those stood nearby, trapped between their brown-coated death and the rain pouring in from above. But then, at least one of those things was a fairly common occurrence nowadays, and so did little to faze anybody there, not least of all John. He now instructed the others to grab a couple of the watering cans located underneath the rows of deceased foliage, and then turned to head back inside, where he immediately caught sight of exactly what he’d been hoping to find all along.

  Right there in front of him stood a tall display case filled with various types of seed, housed just underneath an awning that until now had helped keep them dry.

  “Bingo”, John called out as he began inspecting the haul. “Tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, pumpkins, peas, corn and god knows what else”, he said, reeling off the different options in front of him as he slid his backpack off of his shoulders and onto the floor in front.

  Andrew and Sonja each expressed various levels of joy at the find, before leaving John to bag the items up, and instead heading back inside the store, happy to get out of the rain. John meanwhile cleared up every last bag available, adamant that they’d leave nothing of use behind, and then slung his backpack back onto his thick shoulders. He gave one final sweep of the outdoor area, and then followed his companions back inside, closing the door behind him and in doing so shutting off the sound of torrential rain outside.

  John now began his own final sweep of the building, knowing that they were unlikely to be coming back, and wanting desperately to head home with some more immediately useful goods. He knew the vegetables wouldn’t be ready for a while, even longer in fact in the case of those that couldn’t be grown over winter, and so had hoped he might find some more usable items, such as weapons. Unfortunately for him though, aside from the odd hoe – which Andrew had collected – and some smaller items such as trowels and pruning shears – which Sonja had gotten to first – there was little else of much use remaining.

  Making his way down the second set of aisles, he managed to find and bag some nails, another hammer, and even a screwdriver set, each causing mild amounts of positivity to surface. These were of course all good items, but they weren’t exactly the haul he’d been hoping for, and this only helped fuel John’s concerns, right up until the moment he reached the end of the shelving.

  Narrowly John caught sight of a small sign a little higher up that said one simple word that he knew held the potential to be incredibly valuable; “SOLAR”. Excitedly, John pulled over a nearby step ladder and ascended quickly into the air, throwing his hand onto the shelf and pulling just about every box he could towards him. In the space of a few seconds, he’d managed to find some small lights, a couple of torches, and even a solar powered charging pack, with so many adapters fitted to the end he was sure they’d be able to find a use for it somewhere. Hastily he stuffed everything he could find into his backpack.

  “Something good?”, Sonja asked, having returned to John’s position once she saw him hurriedly climb up the steps.

  “You know”, John started as he began to descend down again, “I never liked the idea of this solar stuff before”, he continued, now back on the floor, “Always seemed… unreliable, you know?”.

  “I’d take unreliable power over none any day”, Sonja insisted.

  “Then you’re in luck”, John smiled, as he once again swung his backpack over his shoulders, before continuing his search.

  Before long, it became apparent that the store was done, housing little more than discarded and trampled items that they were all certain they’d find no use for. Eventually John reconvened with the others at the entrance, and prepared himself to depart.

  “Where now?”, John asked, hoping for ideas.

  The other two stood in silence, unable to suggest much beyond what they had already done.

  “Too early to be heading back”, John insisted, “How about a few more houses?”, he suggested.

  With that, another crack of thunder sounded out from outside.

  “Maybe we should just head back?”, Andrew said nervously.

  “What?”, John asked, “It’s barely midday!”.

  “I know but…”, Andrew hesitated, forever nervous of going against John’s wishes.

  “The truck’s pretty full”, Sonja cut in, “The wood’s sitting out in the rain and the base is under-manned, heading back doesn’t sound like a bad idea”.

  Once again John felt despair at another hunt being cut short. The days they were able to head out on were few and far between, and every time they lost even a few hours was a travesty as far as he was concerned. But he knew they had a point, and that he too would be worrying about the state of the car-park if they left it so unguarded for much longer. In any case, it wasn’t as if he could force the others to keep going.

  “Fine”, he eventually conceded, with a great deal of resentment present in his voice, “Let’s head home”.

  * * *

  Back at camp, the horde of undead figures had now well and truly arrived. The mass of bloodied limbs and limping stances was now spread across the street outside in a group that covered the full length of the car-park and beyond, their noise alone causing all manner of issues inside. The huddled masses sat terrified, wincing at every groan, praying nothing found its way in. They’d sat through plenty of similar situations before, but never with quite so many of them out there at once.

  Down below, Harvey sat awkwardly on the bottom steps of the south stairwell, himself the closest member of the community to the undead, but perhaps also the safest. He was separated from the threat by tables, cabinets, old beds, chairs, boxes, a vehicle, and just about anything else that could be found lying around when they originally barricaded the doorway. There was little to no chance anyone or anything was getting to him, which was a good job, as he continued to suffer from the various injuries he’d so recently sustained.

  At the other end of the
building, it was a similar story. Behind rows of furniture and of course a truck, sat Lester, firming and unfirming his grip on the M16 sitting in his lap, occasionally flicking his glance forwards to make sure nothing had entered. From his position, he could see little of the threat outside, save for the odd shadows and glimpses of bodies through viewing holes in the car-park’s many concrete walls. The noise however, was overwhelming. Lester wasn’t sure if it was because of the large, empty spaces, or the fact that there were simply so many of them, but for the longest time an almost constant tone of moaning and suffering was all he could hear, and it was slowly driving him mad.

  Mercifully, it wasn’t until almost half of the horde had passed that the first few stragglers began to investigate the building. In the first instance, this was little more than a drunken stumble into the confines of the ground floor, before the being quickly turned and headed back out again, but this soon changed. Before long, a particularly large member of the undead group came barrelling into the building, tripping over its own feet from the suddenly huge amount of free space it had to roam in, much to the amusement of both guards.

  What was less amusing however was the way in which it attempted to get back to its feet. Slowly and with great difficulty, the body attempted to climb back up once more, before again falling down. This time however, it fell in the direction of the nearest wall, colliding with one of the two wheelbarrows propped up next to each other, and sending it flying. The noise of hollow metal repeatedly bouncing on concrete was enormous, and echoed out all around the building, significant enough to draw the attention of an unfortunate number of the undead.

  “Oh Jesus”, Lester said under his breath as he watched a group of fifteen or so biters quickly splinter off from the main herd.

  Each of them were drawn immediately to the wheelbarrow, but before long the first of the group had spotted Harvey, just barely visible through the wreckage in front, most likely still easy enough to sniff out. Within moments, almost the entire group – which was slowly growing in numbers as the odd reinforcement joined from outside – were now stacking up at the entrance to the far-side stairwell, and began pressing up against the barricades in front.

  Watching from a distance, it wasn’t long before Lester knew he had to do something.

  “HEY”, he yelled from the other end of the building, whilst also tapping his rifle hard against the metal shell of the pickup in front. “OVER HERE!”.

  Immediately all heads turned to the source of the new noise, and one by one they began to move towards the disruption, knowing the tone of a living human better than any other.

  “YEAH YOU HEARD ME!”, Lester shouted again, adding to the noise but at least guaranteeing they would face off with him, instead of his injured fellow guard.

  Unfortunately for Lester, the one potential drawback to his plan was indeed coming to fruition. From outside, more of the undead were splitting off and coming inside in search of the new noise. Lester had known this to be a likely side-effect of his yelling, but he also knew that an extra few of the undead against him was better than a few less against the wounded Harvey. After making sure no threat remained on the far side, Lester quickly counted up his following – their numbers now nearer thirty – and began to ready himself.

  Lester had guns, and he had ammunition, but he also had the brains to know not to use them. He was fairly happy with the barricade in front, knowing they would have to make their way through the truck and numerous other obstacles to reach him, by which point they’d likely be entering one by one. Lester knew that by that point there’d be no issue with confrontation, so he just had to make sure that that was exactly how things worked out.

  Back at the other end of the building, the numbers outside were thinning, and now only a straggling few continued to wander past. Harvey knew what Lester was doing, and knew it was indeed the best course of action, but as he watched the large group of deadly attackers approach his lonesome fellow guard, he also knew that he was in a dangerous situation. Still, Harvey too had a job to do, and couldn’t leave his post until he was absolutely certain that no threat remained.

  Before long the mini-horde reached Lester’s barricade, and one by one began slowly colliding with the truck that separated them from their meal. Lester watched happily from inside the stairwell, knowing he’d done well to setup such thick barriers. However his happiness quickly diminished, when he realised just how much the truck was moving. He had expected them to perhaps rock it slightly, maybe even to push it a few inches along the ground, but that would normally be when their numbers were much higher, and not when only the initial few had arrived. Suddenly Lester found himself re-evaluating the situation, wondering what was going wrong. He’d pushed the vehicle into position, he’d locked the doors, made sure the windows were up, and then-.

  “Handbrake”, he found himself saying out loud, as he realised the one thing he’d forgotten to do.

  Quickly Lester sprang into action, attempting to clamber over the many fallen objects in front in order to make his way towards the truck. But before he’d made it past so much as a single wardrobe, the vehicle was already being moved too fast. Through sheer, horrible bad luck, a number of the undead had chosen to attack from the left in unison, causing them to begin inadvertently concentrating their force from one direction. Inch by inch, second by second, the heavy pickup began rolling away from the doorway, and before long, it was no longer an obstacle.

  Harvey meanwhile was waiting patiently, staring outside at what had remained an empty street for a good minute or so. Once certain the horde had passed, he then began ascending some steps towards a hole in the wall for a better view, in order to ensure no stragglers remained behind the main group, and then decided it was time to assist his fellow guard. Slowly and with great difficulty he moved up the remaining steps to the upper floor, and then began the long walk over to the other end of the car-park.

  Lester’s situation on the other hand was developing much more quickly. The first of the undead had already managed to all but shatter the table that marked the front of the wooden barricade, and was quickly setting about taking care of the next piece. This obstruction technique wasn’t designed to last forever, but nor was it intended to survive a direct onslaught by so many of the undead, and had heavily relied on the truck bearing most of the brunt. Lester placed his M16 down and picked up the nearby axe, and prepared himself for what was about to follow.

  Chapter 17: Outnumbered

  Soon enough, the first few biters began to make their way through, initially at a slow pace and thus at perfect speed for Lester. With little advanced thought necessary, he was able to step forwards, swing the axe down and then step back, repeating as and when required. The axe wasn’t in the sharpest of states, but at this point, when most of the undead were as rotten and frail as could be imagined, the crushing of their skulls would normally do just as much damage as slicing them open.

  Around the fifth or so biter however, their speed began to increase. Body by body the barricade was being worn down, and Lester was having to use up more and more energy, causing him to gradually slow down. Moving forwards once more, he found himself having to bring the axe down much more quickly than usual courtesy of a faster moving target, and still even then only managed to barely graze the back of the beast’s head. Thinking fast, he pulled out his blade and embedded it into the advancing figure as a secondary attack, putting it down at the last possible second. But unfortunately by this point, the next in line had already arrived.

  Lester didn’t even have time to withdraw his knife, the figure in front quite simply lunged forwards, grabbing him by one shoulder whilst another joined in and grabbed his other. Lester was a tank of a man, but two bodies hurtling full force into him was a difficult thing to stand up against, for anybody. He stumbled back trying to shake off his new attachments, lost his footing, and came crashing down backwards onto the cold concrete below. Without wasting any time, each of his attackers then joined him on the ground, swing
ing wildly with their jagged claws, and spitting various disgusting liquids at him as they did.

  “You ain’t getting past me!”, Lester found himself yelling, knowing that he was the last line of defence for the vulnerable people on the floors above.

  Summoning a super-human level of strength, the ginormous figure freed up his left arm, and managed to grab the nearest attacker by the throat. Barely aware of what he was doing, Lester began to squeeze, his own fingers penetrating skin as he attempted to subdue the foe in the most gruesome way possible. Before he could finish though, a third biter appeared from amidst the ruined barricade, and quickly piled on top of its fellow undead, all of them now weighing down on Lester’s chest.

  Losing the firmness of his grip on the first biter, he tried desperately to wriggle free, but to no avail. It took every ounce of remaining strength to pull his head away from the approaching teeth, notably from the right-hand body, which now began the slow descent towards Lester’s jugular, before opening wide, and beginning the slow, flesh targeting clamp that it had become so accustomed to.

  Suddenly however, that particular figure was thrown backwards, as a deafening roar erupted from behind, briefly illuminating the room around Lester and near-incinerating both of his eardrums. Soon afterwards a second explosion occurred – most likely Lester imagined, from a gun – and the central biter too went from vicious and filled with energy, to a lifeless bag of organs laid down on Lester’s stomach. Finally a third and final shot followed close behind, directly into the skull of the first attacker, their neck still loosely gripped by one of Lester’s large hands.

  “C’mon”, came a familiar voice from behind, as a hand stretched out and helped pull the bigger man free of the various bloodied objects atop him.