by Matt Shaw
I expected the truck to speed up and try and hit me. At the very least I expected it to go round me. If it were me in there, I wouldn’t be stopping for anything. Not that stupid. To my surprise the vehicle slowed. I heard the doors lock before the window opened as it pulled up to my side. I looked in - a black man at the wheel with a maniacal grin on his face. Fuck his teeth are white. Wouldn’t want to hide down a dark alleyway with him unless he could promise not to grin.
“You bit?” he asked. I have to confess - at first - I didn’t have a fucking clue what he was saying. His accent was that thick. When my brain figured it out I managed to answer him a ‘no’. Thought he probably didn’t need to know about the girl. Not as though she was one of the dead fucks anyway. “Where you headed?” he asked. Again - a few seconds to figure out what actually came from his mouth. I shrugged. “I need petrol,” he said. Honestly it was like watching a foreign film minus the subtitles. I couldn’t help but wonder whether this was how deaf people felt when they tried understanding someone who was a little quieter than others. “You help me out, I give you a lift.” Seemed like a fair deal when my brain processed the words. I shouldn’t grumble. At least he spoke my language. “You def not bit?” he repeated.
“No.”
I heard the door unlock. He leaned across and opened the passenger door. I took that as all the invitation I needed and went and climbed in, closing the door behind me.
“So where’s the nearest petrol station?” he asked. I thought, for a minute, and could only think of one; the supermarket. I directed him as best as I could and we set upon our path - hitting anything which walked with satisfying thuds.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Abrafo,” he said. It was no good, I had to ask him to repeat it three times.
“What? Your mum and dad must have fucking hated you. You bullied a lot at school?” he looked at me with piercing black eyes.
“It comes from a military term. It means executioner,” he informed me. Oh - well excuse me all to hell. Apt meaning though - considering what he had done to the woman.
“Well - I think if it’s all the same with you - I’m going to call you Colin.” The man gave me another stern look. Don’t give a fuck. I’m the one with Bob the machete. He wants to try anything, I’ll just fuck him up. I didn’t see why he should be offended. It’s not as though people like him don’t rename themselves all the time. Only the other week - before things turned to shit - I had a phone call from some foreign fuck overseas trying to sell me a mobile phone. The first thing which annoyed me about the phone call was the fact that he tried to sell me a mobile phone by phoning my mobile phone.
“Do you currently have a mobile phone?” he’d asked. He knew the fucking answer. He’d called me on it! The second thing which annoyed me was the fact he introduced himself as John. No way was he a John. Not a fucking chance. And if he was able to lie about his name - what else was the cunt able to lie about?
My mind switched back to seeing Colin run the girl over earlier and I couldn’t help but to bring it up. My mind curious as to what was going through his head, “So - what - you just going round running everyone over?” I asked. Was I only safe because he needed directions to the petrol station? What with him clearly not being from the area.
“I kill the dead,” he told me. His voice was so serious about it. Like a man on a mission. I quite like that.
“What about the girl?”
“What girl?”
I explained to him that I’d witnessed him plough into a girl who was trying to get his attention and I stifled a laugh when I saw the look of horror on his face. He hadn’t realised he’d seen anyone else alive - other than me - and had just been trying to send as many of the R.D.Fs back to Hell as he possibly could. That’s fucking priceless.
“I thought you of all people would have stopped for her,” I continued. “Taken her home…I mean - that’s what your kind does with pretty white girls, isn’t it? They just take ‘em home and make them their bitch - or they rape them…”
The man slammed on the brakes and we skidded to a halt. “Get the fuck out!” he yelled at me. “Racist piece of shit.” I had to ask him to repeat the last sentence twice. An R.D.F starting banging on the window of my side of the truck. He yelled at me (which didn’t help his accent), “GET THE FUCK OUT!” I raised Bob to the man’s throat.
“Let’s not be too hasty, shall we? I’ll cut you. Now. You need me and I fancy a lift anyway. The supermarket will serve us both. I’ll help you get petrol and then I’ll go off my own way…” my own way being the supermarket. Fucking starving. Only had had a few bars of chocolate and that isn’t enough to keep me going. Colin, for that was his name, raised his hands as though on the defensive. Can’t say I blame him - pretty sure I’d have done the same thing if someone had aimed Bob at my throat. “Good. Glad you understand.” I pulled the blade away but kept it primed to take a swing if need be. “Drive on, Jeeves.” I could tell that Colin hated me. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted the R.D.F to pull me through the window but I didn’t give a fuck. I’m smarter than this ape. Always have been and always will be. Colin pressed down on the gas and we moved on - with the truck stuttering in the process. “You sure you have enough petrol to even get us there?” I asked.
Dr. Platts
I drove all the way up to the supermarket - right up to the main entrance. I’d already realised this wasn’t the plan I had hoped it would be. The infected were in the car park, freely roaming, and - when I stopped by the entrance - the automatic doors were working as though powered by a generator. Good that there was power but not good that the doors worked as it meant anything could wander in without too much trouble. Well I need to have a look at least. Need to see if Amy is there. Just stick my head in, have a quick scan of the place and - if there is trouble - get the Hell out of there. Maybe be able to grab some of the food from the shelves before making my retreat? No sense second guessing what will happen or what I’ll be able to do. Just need to get in there and see what is what. I took a few deep breaths to steady my nerves. Really wish I had someone with me for a little moral support right about now. Being alone - in a time like this - is no fun at all. Okay. This is it. I took the key from the ignition and opened the car door. I didn’t bother locking the door as I entered the supermarket. I wanted it to be easy to just open and door and jump in - just in case I am chased out by something, or someone.
Inside the supermarket was a mess. Clearly people had been having the same plans as us. Shelves had clearly been ransacked - some had toppled over. There were broken food packages on the floor with clear signs they’d been trampled on. A few bodies which had been torn to pieces. They weren’t showing signs of infection but - even so - I kept my distance from them. I hadn’t gone far into the supermarket but I already knew Amy wasn’t in here. She wouldn’t have stayed in here. I know because I won’t stay in here. It’s not the safe haven I had hoped it to be. That much is clear. I grabbed a basket from the floor and hurried to the first aisle - just grab enough food to see me through the next few days. Maybe head out to the country and see if there are any retreats out there? I knew of a rehab centre on the outskirts of town - those things are so secure and fussy about who comes and goes that there was a good chance it would be….A noise distracted me; a jar broke on the floor somewhere. Don’t waste time thinking; just grab what I can and get out of here. It’s not safe. The first aisle had fruit and vegetables. Not the best of food to take due to their limited shelf life but it didn’t matter. As long as it lasted a couple of days that would be fine. They’ll be good for that. I grabbed what I could and threw it into the basket whilst keeping an eye out all around for any signs of the infected. I know they’re in here. Jars don’t just topple onto the floor without something to push them.
With the basket full I turned back to the entrance point of the store. The automatic doors slid open before I got there and I froze on the spot. Was someone out there? Was someone coming in? I know
I received some attention as I drove into the building but I didn’t see any of the infected being close enough to get there so quickly. Not with the speed they move. Another smash from behind me made me spin on the spot. Still can’t see any signs of life (or infected) from behind me even though I know something is back there. It doesn’t matter - not going that way. Need to go through the front door. Need to get back to my car. Just make a run for it. I only need to make it to the car - which is open - and then I’m safe. I can do it…Okay. A took a few deep breaths. Any hesitation I was to potentially suffer disappeared at the sound of another breaking jar from somewhere behind me. I ran for the door. As I neared, the automatic door slid open allowing my freedom. I can see the car. I can see the sky. I can see the floor. I can see my body. I can see the floor. I can see an infected in the distance. I can see two figures next to my body. I can see the sky. I can see the floor. I head-butted the floor. I rolled to the side. Concrete. Sky. Concrete. Sky. Concrete. Sky. Concrete. Sky. Concrete. Sky. Two figures next to my body; one cheering, one screaming. I came to a rest as my eye-sight faded. Hearing was the last thing to go. The sound of cheering.
Ted
I stopped cheering when I saw the horror on Colin’s face. “That’s one all,” I reminded him. “I thought she was one of the rotting dead fucks!” I lied. I saw through the window who it was. All my Christmases had come at once too. Always wanted to cut her head off. And the fucking way it flew from her shoulders - well that was my main Christmas present right there. I continued, “You’re going to need a stronger stomach if you’re to survive in this world, my friend. Can’t always hide behind a steering wheel to do your killing. Survival of the sickest. Remember that - it’ll serve you well.” I wiped the Bob clean on my trousers and stepped through the sliding doors and into the store. Colin followed.
We’d made it to the petrol station but couldn’t get the damned pumps to work. I thought it was a matter of just squeezing the trigger as usual but apparently not. There was no chance we were going to make it to the next station so I told Colin I was going to the supermarket to get some food and see if anyone else was around. Of all the people to run into. Dr-fucking-Platts. Still laughing now. Such a great fucking shot with the machete. Man - had I known the end of the world was going to be this fun - I’d have wished for it a lot sooner. Not that I actually wished for it. Sure I wished I was dead from time to time but not now. Now I’m glad I never had the balls to kill myself. I’d have missed out on this; the chance to live out all the fantasies society tends to frown upon. Anyway, Colin had come with me because he didn’t fancy going it alone and I didn’t mind. Figured - with the lights out - he’d be good for the odd sneak attack. As long as he squinted - what with the whites of his eyes being as bright as his smile.
“Should start at the tool section,” I told him, “see if we can find you a weapon.” I scanned the signs above the many aisles hoping to see one which would point us in the direction of the tools. Instead something else caught my eye. “This way,” I ordered him. Truth be told - he didn’t have to follow and I wouldn’t have given a fuck either way. He still followed. The way he took my order; they make good fucking slaves. No wonder we shipped them overseas to help us out. We hurried towards the aisle which had caught my attention - clothes.
“What are you doing?” he asked (at least I think that’s what he said) as I started thumbing my way through the trainers which hung from the rack. He was looking around nervously.
“Have you seen my shoes?” I asked him. They were on their way out long before all of this kicked off but - yeah - the last two days had seriously taken their toll, what with all the running and walking. And the toe-punt to the zombie’s head back in the garden - that didn’t help. I mean - fuck - every time I go through a puddle of gore I get wet socks. You know how irritating that is? I found a pair of trainers which looked as though they were ripped off directly from a pair of Nikes. They’d do. I pulled them off the shelf where they hung by a small hanger and kicked my own shoes off.
“We need to get out of here!” Colin said. His voice was panicked. “Can you hear them?” He wasn’t hearing things. I could definitely hear the groans of trouble but I also knew they were distant enough not to cause us any issues. Not yet anyway. I slid the new trainers on.
“Oh my God - so fucking soft!” I stood up and did a couple of test jumps. “You not going to get yourself a new pair whilst we’re here?” He didn’t answer. He was staring dead ahead at something behind me. Two of the R.D.Fs were approaching us.
“We need to go!” he shouted again. He turned and ran in the opposite direction. I didn’t have to follow him. It was only two. I could have taken them down. Didn’t though. I followed like a little sheep. Having him around - he was a good look-out if nothing else. I could have sworn those fuckers were further away from me.
“Where the fuck are you going?” I shouted at him as he led the way through the back of the store. “We could have just gone out via the front!” We were running through the back area with no idea of where we were headed. Colin clearly running in a blind panic - completely lost. As he turned another corner he spotted another room to charge into. He opened the door and burst in without a care for what he was running into. Only caring about what he was running away from. “Just stop a minute!” I called out. “We need to think this through…” We’d run so far and fast that there was no chance we were still being chased. Once in the room Colin ran to the next door and gave the handle a try. It was locked. “Brilliant! Now won’t you just fucking calm down a minute and let us think this through sensibly?” I was glad he had cornered us - gave me a minute to catch my breath. Little fucker certainly could run. Guess they have to over there though.
“Look!” they’d call out to each other, “Clean water!” and they’d run towards it before the others lapped it all up. That’s how it is in my head anyway and I doubt I’m wrong. No other reason they’re all Speedy-Gonzales.
“Fuck!” Colin hit the locked door and turned back to me. He froze on the spot. I did too - something about the look on his face. A groan from close behind me. I span around and realised we’d burst straight into a room and past one of the rotting dead fucks. A female security officer. Mid thirties, white shirt, short black dress - kind of hot if I’m going to be honest. I jumped back and got behind the desk in the middle of the room. “She’s blocking our way out!” Colin observed. Well done Colin. Good observational skills. I noticed a bloodied knife on the desk and grabbed it. I handed it to Colin. “What is this for?”
“Think about it, you fucking idiot!” The woman had a slit across her neck. I wondered whether she’d taken her own life - knowing she was doomed anyway - or whether someone else had taken it from her. I wouldn’t have. Far too pretty to kill. She wasn’t moving towards us, just standing there in front of the door, snarling with a look of hunger in her eyes. “We can rush her,” I told him. “You step out that way,” I pointed him in the direction I needed him to go, “and I’ll go in the other way. Whichever one of us that she doesn’t look towards needs to run forward to stab her in the head. Get it? Quite a fucking simple plan!”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Of course you can, you’ve been killing them all morning!”
“In my car!”
“Okay - step out and distract her and I’ll charge towards her!” He hesitated for a moment until he realised that - if he didn’t want to kill her - it was his best option. He stepped from behind the desk and took a step towards her, ready to turn and run if she suddenly lunged. Silly though - he shouldn’t have turned away from me. I was more of a danger than one of the Rotting Dead Fucks. I lunged forward from behind the desk and swiped at the back of his leg with the machete. He screamed as a stream of blood flew towards the R.D.F which seemed to come alive at the scent of it. “Sorry, Colin, but - you know - I needed a distraction…Can’t get more distracting than a screaming black man!” I hurried towards the door he’d previously said was locked. Hadn’t tried
it myself. Maybe it was just jammed. A twist of the handle. Definitely locked - fuck it. I turned back to the door. The R.D.F was greedily eating at Colin who was still screaming. Her hands ripping into his guts. All red on the inside. Guess - beneath the layers - we are the same. There’s a lesson there not that I’ll bother to learn it. I made a move for the door but the R.D.F suddenly turned to face me. I backed up behind the desk again and she continued to eat Colin. There’s not enough room to make a run for it. Not sure I’d get past without her grabbing me. I sunk down behind the desk while I weighed up my options.
Present Day
* * *
There is no escape from it
His name was Ted
“Just think of it as lubrication,” she said. She rubbed her clitoris with one hand (in my mind) and took a hold of my penis with her other hand (again, in my mind). She didn’t hesitate in guiding me in. Damn soft. Wet. Surprisingly warm despite the look of her suggesting she’d been dead for more than a few days. Fuck. They should bottle this shit and sell it via online sex shops. That is, after they’ve figured out how to get the Internet back online again. Priorities and all that. “How is it?” she purred.
