by West, Mark
I’m not sure what to do, and can’t work out why I’m the one now making all the decisions. ‘I guess you’re right.’ I quickly decide without realising. ‘But we still need to make the trip to get the solar panels, unfortunately.’ Lincoln is shaking his head, but I know he understands where I’m coming from.
‘Thanks.’ Doug says. And I notice the tension in his shoulders fall just a little.
Lincoln turns to Rohan who is busy rubbing the Colorado’s bonnet in a strange, sensual way. ‘Keys man.’ He holds out his hand. ‘Looks like we’re sticking with you guys for a little longer.’
‘Nah bro, all good. I’ll drive,’ he answers, shaking his head.
‘Seriously, Rohan, keys.’ Lincoln takes a step closer. I can feel the tension building, so I move in also.
‘All good, I’ll drive. You can trust me.’ Rohan smiles, and I see that cheeky grin again.
‘Give me my damn keys!’
His voice echoes in the yard and I lunge forward, grabbing Lincoln’s arm. ‘Keep it down you idiots!’
‘I wouldn’t need to yell if this donkey would give me my keys back.’ Lincoln glares.
‘Let him drive. He isn’t giving them back,’ I snap. ‘It’s only a few kilometres up the road. What’s the worst that can happen?’ I clamp tightly on his shoulder and pull him away.
He resists and I feel his shoulder roll, attempting to shrug off my hand. ‘I don’t bloody care if it’s to the gate and back, I can see that look in his eyes.’
‘Yes, but—’ Rohan is shoving the keys down the front of his pants. ‘What the hell, Rohan.’ He wiggles his body, so the keys slip to his groin and lets out a sigh.
Lincoln’s jaw drops and he turns and walks away. ‘Fuck sake, Jackson. Let’s go. I’ll ride with you.’
It’s a short trip to Woolworths. We cut through a few back alleys, undetected except for one lone Infected, and arrive in Amos Street where the building is located. The side car park is clear, so I go in and park less than thirty metres away from the store. I check around before shutting off the engine and hopping out. I hear Doug’s truck rumble in, then Rohan brings up the rear in Lincoln’s truck.
‘That idiot better not have scratched my car,’ Lincoln grumbles. ‘Did you see the way he aimed for that fat dude back there? The guy exploded on my damn bonnet!’
‘Who cares, mate?’ I shrug, a little over the whole issue. ‘You can always find another car. And besides, its scratched up already. You did the same just hours before. You need to find another Ranger. I miss your Ranger.’ I raise my rifle to my eye and begin scanning the building for any signs of movement. ‘All clear,’ I say, lowering it again.
‘Yeh, true. But still, what the hell, Jackson? That guy needs a good smack in the head sometimes.’
Rohan pulls in beside us, and Doug parks on the opposite side of the car park. I scan the area for places where Infected could be hiding. I’m grateful our noise doesn’t appear to have attracted any, but it seems a little odd how quiet it is.
Rohan shuts the door and walks around to Lincoln who is inspecting the bonnet. ‘See, not one scratch.’ He leans over the bull bar and flicks off a few fingers stuck on by copious amounts of blood. They fall onto the bitumen, and he swiftly kicks them under the tyres like twigs.
‘You idiot, Rohan!’ Lincoln gestures to the bonnet. It’s a blanket of gore; blood, flesh and things that I don’t even recognise cover the front of it. ‘It’s caved in. It wasn’t like this before! You owe me a new truck … bigger and better.’ He lights up a cigarette in disgust and turns away from the damage.
Baffled, Rohan scans his eyes across the damage. He shrugs and lets out a small ‘humph’ then casually walks over.
I lower my scope after a third scan. The front still seems clear and there isn’t a sound in the air except for the squawk of a lone magpie in a pine tree behind us.
‘What do we all think?’ I ask.
‘Let’s go through the loading dock area,’ Doug suggests, indicating to the side of the building. ‘It looks enclosed and I can’t see any movement.’
Lincoln nods towards the steel doors just visible above the enclosure that is covered in green shade cloth. ‘How do you propose we get through those?’
‘We don’t,’ says Rohan.
‘You’re right.’ I nod. ‘They might cause us some serious issues trying to get them open, plus the noise would attract anything in the vicinity. Besides, we can hardly see inside that area with the shade cloth in the way.’
‘Front’s the go then,’ says Lincoln, eyeing off the glass entrance. ‘We can smash a window then try and draw out anything or anyone before we enter.’
‘Good idea.’ Rohan pulls a scrunched pack of smokes from his pants pocket, flicks it open and pulls out a single bent cigarette. He doesn’t bother to straighten it and places it in his mouth and lights it up. ‘I’m game if the rest of you are.’
‘Ideas Lincoln, they call me.’ He takes another drag from his smoke, holds it in while puffing his chest out like a bird challenging another male, then slowly lets the smoke drift out of his mouth.
‘Boy you guys really charge those durries,’ Doug says. ‘You’ll be stuffed when you run out.’ His face screws up in disgust as more smoke drifts in his direction.
‘I guess,’ says Rohan, dismissing the comment.
‘Ok, let’s do it guys,’ I say. ‘We shouldn’t hang around too long exposed like this. Let’s get moving.’
We gather our firearms, walking carefully to the front of the store like a well-trained military unit. It’s surprising in such little time how coordinated and organised we are becoming.
The store is basically one large, green box. Glass spans most of the front with Woolworths printed in large green letters across it followed by a picture of an apple. Flyers, stickers and posters cover most of the remaining space, obstructing the view inside. As we approach the ramp that runs along the front, I glance around to the others clutching their weapons tightly, alert and ready. Everyone seems nervous. Lincoln is leading the assault, followed by me, Rohan and then Doug at the rear. We form a kind of conga line along the ramp until we reach the front, then duck behind a pillar for cover. I look at the entrance. A metal trolley is trapped between the automatic doors. It has somehow become wedged, stopping the doors from fully closing.
Lincoln cranes his neck, trying desperately to see past the signage and into the store. ‘I can’t see anything,’ he whispers. ‘Too many stickers in the way.’
‘Me neither,’ Rohan replies, peering around the other corner.
We creep in closer, gathering in front of the automatic doors. A few large stickers attached to the glass partially hide us from anyone inside. Everyone begins pressing their faces up against the glass for a closer look. Fruit stickers plastered along the front obscure most of the view, but we manage to find some small gaps and inspect the store.
‘I think I see some movement,’ Rohan whispers, pushing his finger up against the glass.
I follow his gaze and spot a dark shadow lurking inside. ‘I see it too.’
‘I got another over here,’ Doug calls out, softly. He’s resting on his stomach, looking through the gap underneath the posters.
After watching and waiting for around ten minutes, we spot fifteen confirmed Infected. But the total count is still anyone’s guess at this point. Our strategy changes, and we decide the best plan of action is to attack head-on, guns blazing and a full-on arsenal assault inside the store, in the hope that the building will contain the noise.
I check over my rifle, slide the magazine back in and click the safety off. ‘The concrete walls should suppress the gunfire.’ I say, lowering my gun. ‘Let’s stay in pairs and no one wander off this time.’ I cast a deathly glare at Lincoln and Rohan before turning my attention back to the task at hand.
Doug nods, sweat beading along his forehead. His gun shakes slightly in his hands. ‘In and out.’
Lincoln pulls an old rag from his pocket and wipes t
he barrel of his gun. ‘Let’s pray there’s no surprises inside this time.’ He spits on the barrel and gives another wipe, vigorously rubbing the spot.
I creep towards the trolley that’s jammed in the doors. I spot an Infected after a few steps and freeze, before moving again and shuffling back down one of the aisles. I grip the trolley’s metal handle and give it a small tug. It moves a few centimetres, but the door traps it again with a low thud. I stop, jerking my head up to see if there is any movement. It’s still clear. I release the air trapped in my lungs and wipe away the sweat trickling down the side of my cheek. I’m not sure if it’s the heat or my nerves.
‘Lincoln, Rohan.’ I signal them over. ‘Let’s try pulling the doors open to release this trolley.’ The boys each grab a door. ‘Okay, on my count. One, two, three.’
They pull, forcing the doors to open slightly and I roll the trolley backwards. The wheels screech causing us all to freeze. We inspect the inside for any movement and find it’s still clear. My hands shake nervously as I slowly wheel the trolley back and we release the doors, thankful they stay open and don’t automatically close when the boys let go.
Doug slaps my back as I crouch down with the rest of the gang. ‘Nice work,’ he says appreciatively.
I look back at the open door. ‘That was the easy part. Now it’s time to go in.’
We make our way inside the store very quietly, one by one, trying desperately not to tread on any items scatted across the floor. The place looks like it has been ransacked: a Black Friday special, but with the items pulled from the shelves and dumped in a mess on the floor.
We crouch behind a register, plan our positions and split up. Doug takes cover behind the Service Desk, which is in the centre, while Rohan and Lincoln hide behind the checkouts on either side. I spot a platform ladder behind the registers, and decide that’s where I’ll be. I’m not being a coward, it’s a strategic decision. From that position I can protect everyone when the Infected come. I just hope everyone is as good a shot as they make out to be.
Chapter 17
HELP
The girls begin running towards the house, the rifle bouncing frantically on Victoria’s right shoulder. They come to a sudden stop just before the rock wall when they spot three Infected staggering down the side of the house: a man and two women. Amy points to the fence, indicating it’s fallen. Victoria quickly bends to one knee and positions the rifle.
‘I’m taking a shot!’
She desperately tries to steady the gun, but she’s shaking too much from the sudden rush of adrenaline. She focuses her eye on the moving scope and peers through. ‘Hold steady, Victoria,’ she tells herself. But she is still shaking, and only just manages to place the man in her crosshairs for a mere second before pulling the trigger.
The bullet hits the man in the shoulder, spinning him to his left. He regains his balance and disappears behind the back of the house. The two women follow. Moments later there is another scream.
‘Help!’
Victoria jumps to her feet, re-joining Amy who is opening the makeshift gate that’s across the gap in the rock wall. Both girls run through, closing it behind them, and sprint towards the back of the house.
‘Victoria! Amy!’ Piper screams when she spots the two girls coming around the corner. ‘Help!’
Piper is trapped in the corner of the deck by five Infected. Her only protection a few chairs and a table that block the path of the hungry former humans. They push and pull at the furniture in fury, growling, with jaws snapping like crocodiles, as they attempt to reach her.
‘Coming! Hold on!’ Victoria screams, lowering to one knee again and lifting the rifle.
Two of the Infected turn when they hear Victoria’s voice. They snarl and begin walking towards the girls: a small child and the man who Victoria had shot. The child is about eight or nine years old, with strawberry blonde hair and wearing a white summer dress with sunflowers across the front. She reminds Victoria of her nephew who is around the same age, except one side of the girl’s face is half torn off.
Under immense pressure, Victoria takes her first shot too quickly, hitting the little girl in the left knee. The child’s kneecap shatters, and her lower leg twists so that her foot faces backwards. Her leg gives way and she falls to the ground. She snarls and begins to crawl across the ground, unconcerned at what is being done to her soft skin by the sharp rocks.
Victoria winces at the damage. She has to tell herself it isn’t a small girl anymore. She reloads the gun, sending the empty shell flying sideways, and squeezes the trigger. The bullet hits the man in the side of his neck, leaving a cherry tomato size hole and causing him to fall to the ground.
Amy, who is standing next to Victoria, grabs the nearest rock she can find and runs towards the child, lifting the rock high in the air and slamming it down on the little girl’s head. The rock is hard and sharp and splits the girl’s skull open like a coconut. Amy drops the rock in horror. She feels the blood drain from her face and vomit fills her mouth.
‘Get down!’ Victoria yells, readying herself to fire another shot.
The bullet soars through the air, hitting the woman closest to Piper in the back of the head. There is small thud as the bullet passes through, embedding in the timber cladding and leaving a small divot behind along with bone, blood and skin that paint the wall.
Victoria fires more shots, this time hitting the other woman in the chest. She falls forward onto a foldable chair that collapses under her weight. She screams, struggling to get up as she becomes wedged in the chair. It temporally immobilises her.
The last of the group is a smaller boy around twelve years old. His face is still intact but he’s bleeding furiously from a cut on his shoulder. He scrambles to the front of the group, desperately trying to get at Piper while his companions fall to the ground. Victoria squeezes the trigger. There’s a faint click; the gun is empty.
‘Shit! Out of bullets!’ She checks her pockets frantically but doesn’t find any. ‘I don’t have spares.’
With no bullets left, Victoria runs towards the deck without thinking, gun under her arm. Amy is close behind. She stops to grab another rock. Piper, now frozen in terror, grips tightly onto the table. The boy pushes away the last chair just as Victoria reaches the deck.
Victoria leaps up the stairs and quickly swings the butt of her gun across the boy’s face, sending him flying sidewards into the corner of the house. He hits it with a loud thud and bounces back. She swings again, pounding his stomach and crushing his fragile organs. He struggles to move, back pressed up against the wall as Victoria places a foot onto his stomach, pinning him down and spinning the barrel of the gun towards his head.
The child peers up just as she thrust the muzzle into his throat and out the back of his neck, only stopping when it hits the wall behind. Amy drops the blood-covered rock onto the head of the woman trapped in the chair, killing her. It clatters onto the deck.
Both girls are panting like wild dogs. They peer over to see Piper still frozen in fear behind a chair, face stark white and shivering uncontrollably. The sheer violence has Victoria feeling sick. Her mind is racing, but she can’t stop to think about what she has done because Joseph is now missing.
‘Where’s Joseph?’ She screams, peering around.
Piper wipes at the tears from her face and begins to whimper. ‘I think he’s under the house.’
Amy, who is still trying to catch her breath, begins scanning the decking boards. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I was digging in the garden when I saw some Infected by the gate. I called to Joseph for help, and ran back to the house to grab my gun. But it was too late, they broke through and trapped me.
‘Joseph eventually came and shot at the smaller boy but missed. The child lunged at him, grabbing his arm, but Joseph managed to fling him away. Joseph ran under the deck screaming. He had the gun with him. I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped here. If it wasn’t for you two, I would’ve been bitten or …’ Her word
s trail off and she starts to cry.
Victoria leans over and gives Piper a comforting hug. ‘It’s okay, you’re safe now.’
But they may not be. Not until they find Joseph.
Chapter 18
THE ASSAULT
Perched high on the platform ladder, about three metres up, I have a view of the entire front section of the store. The top of the ladder is caged in; safety rails surround the front and sides to prevent me from falling. There’s a large box of globes beside me, and I shove it to one side to make more room. I crouch down on one knee and rest my rifle on the rail.
I pull a rubber bud from my pocket and shove it into the ear closest to the gun muzzle, then peer down at the others. I can see them all tucked in behind the counters for protection and holding nervously onto their guns. I lift my arm and signal for their attention. ‘Okay guys are we ready?’ I speak just loudly enough for them to hear.
Lincoln and Rohan crane their heads around and give me the thumbs up. I wait patiently for Doug to answer. Moments later he finally nods and gives me the thumbs up too. I can see an Infected about a quarter of the way down one of the aisles, scanning the surroundings while sniffing the air as if searching for us. I figure he must have heard me call out, and prepare myself. We don’t have a plan as such, just get them down our end and shoot till they’re all dead. We figure it should be much easier this way than running around hunting them all down.
I cup my hands around my mouth and yell, ‘Oi!’
My voice travels through the store, bouncing off the walls and disappearing far into the back. There is dead silence for a moment until we hear the first of many low growls. Soon it sounds like a pack of wolves coming towards us from all directions. I start tapping the metal ladder with the blunt edge of my knife, trying to hurry them along. It pings sharply: metal striking metal, echoing up and out through the store. More growls fill the building, once a silent tomb, and I have a wave of fear flood my brain. What if there are hundreds out back? I shove the thought deep into my mind and concentrate on what’s ahead. Seconds later they’re upon us, spreading out like hungry animals surrounding their prey.
