by Mike Staton
She murmured softly in a sleepy voice, “I’m not interested in round three yet.”
He let out a soft laugh that sounded incredibly sad in his ears and kissed her cheek before nuzzling his forehead against her neck. “The first two were enough for the whole night.”
“Wanting pillow talk then?”
He shook his head. “Not entirely. Wishing times like this would last forever, is all.”
“You’re not dwelling, are you?” Sarah had perked up, the sleepiness falling away from her voice. She shifted in his arms.
“Maybe a little bit,” Percival admitted.
“I’ll climb back up on top of you and you’ll like it if you keep doing that,” She warned.
He heard the playfulness in her voice and knew exactly what she meant. He was certain she was hornier than most guys he’d known. “You wouldn’t. You don’t want to waste all the condoms in one night.”
“Psh,” she muttered. She added in a teasing tone, “Like you could keep it up all night long to do that.”
He shook his head and kissed her. “Whatever.”
He felt her hand slide down his body, and he stopped her well before she got to his crotch. “Not now.”
“You need to forget. We both do.” She referred to her own breakdown at the sight of someone who’d committed suicide and hadn’t even been a zombie.
“I need to accept the reality.”
“Reality is: you didn’t kill her. You didn’t sign a warrant, you didn’t tell her to jump off a bridge.” Sarah sounded irritated. “Now stop beating yourself up over it.”
“She trusted me to get her home safe.” Percival let go of Sarah’s hand and she slid it back up to rest on his chest.
“Shit happens, Percival. Shit happens and we just have to keep on keeping on. There’re still the rest of us that expect you, trust you, to make the right decisions to get us home.” She shifted and pressed herself close to him.
He liked the warmth that spread from her body to his. “You going to be alright?”
“Right as rain. I’m one tough bitch and you, of all people, should know that by now.” Sarah sounded confident. “We’re all more worried about you. If you can’t make the tough decisions, who will?”
“You,” he teased. He didn’t exactly feel better about the events of the past day, but it did feel as though he’d broken through a wall.
“Fuck that. I don’t want that kind of responsibility.” She leaned up and kissed him. She then sank back down to rest against his side.
“I don’t know why anyone would. It’s a mighty heavy weight to carry.”
She sighed softly. “Go back to sleep, asshole. I want a good morning treat.”
*
Percival pointed at a spot on the map. It was the location of a dealership according to a brochure they’d picked up from the visitor center for the town on the way in.
“This is only a couple miles from where we’re at and possibly has stuff we need.” Percival knew better than to expect any working vehicles to remain, but if the pumps had been shut off there might still be diesel gasoline left.
“The cars’ll be useless. Jimbob outside said they were all gone. He’s a trustworthy mate, and been quiet since he arrived.” Roy Joy fidgeted, staring at the map.
“It doesn’t mean other things of use won’t be there. Campus still needs diesel for their generators. Don’t dealerships have their own gas pumps?” Percival sat back from the table in the central hall.
“They do, but we had difficulty finding anything more than a drop our first month out,” Andrina said.
“The places we checked then were the commercial places. The dealership pumps have likely been turned off the entire time.” Karl picked the slide of his pistol off the table and reattached it to his pistol. “There’s also this gun shop just a block away.”
“That’s prolly been looted already.” Evan directed a laser dot to the map and traced a circle around a block. “There’s still the rest of the shopping district here.”
“It’s the other side of the town, kid.” Karl worked the slide of his pistol a few times before setting it on the table. He started pressing bullets into a magazine. “It’s probably still laced with zombies too.”
Percival’s mind went to the department store they stayed in the night before. It had been near the shopping district. It had been surrounded by zombies when they snuck in to search it. “It’s too dangerous. We pick a place further from the area.”
“Such as the opposite side of town. Correct, Mister Polz?” Andrina asked.
Percival nodded. “It’s dangerous and we’ve already seen that most of the buildings over there are pretty smashed up. In our experience, smashed front windows usually mean even less inside.”
“Whatever,” the youth muttered.
“Are we decided then?” Percival asked from his seat.
“Jimbob says—“ Roy Joy was cut off by Sarah.
“Yeah, we’re good to go. I also think we should keep this spot as a safe-house for searching this town. We’ve done it in other places.”
Percival nodded. Keeping this place secure as a safe-house would mean splitting his team up, but that’d never been a problem before. “Unless there’s some objection, I’m going to second that.”
Percival looked slowly around the table. No one voiced an objection to Sarah’s suggestion. He waited a handful of seconds before saying, “Right. Roy Joy and Andrina, you’re on guard duty then.”
“I want to go—“ Roy Joy’s voice took on the quality of a whiny teenager.
“We’d be honored to hold down the fort,” Andrina said, cutting off Roy Joy.
“Thank you.” Percival stood up and collected the map. “We leave in half an hour.”
*
Percival felt uneasy. It had taken them two careful hours to walk to within a block of the dealership and they’d seen only a single zombie. That had been Roy Joy’s ‘Jimbob’ right outside their safe-house. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were being followed. Even though no zombies could be seen, or more importantly, heard.
The situation didn’t make him comfortable, and he regretted not bringing Roy Joy. The man’s insanity frequently held unique and useful insights into zombie behavior. Percival suspected that Roy Joy simply had a strange way of conveying what he had learned while surviving out in the open, on his own.
“You’ve been sitting here for nigh five minutes, chief. What’s up?”
Percival jumped at the sound of Evan’s voice. The kid was almost freakishly stealthy at times.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Percival said.
“Eh?” Evan responded.
Percival thought Evan’s answers to serious situations were often a little subdued. Not that he could really blame the kid. When they had found Evan, a week prior, he’d been the sole survivor of a ‘last stand’ affair. Percival and company had arrived just as the kid fired his last bullet.
There hadn’t been many zombies left, but certainly more than Evan could have handled alone. Percival suspected that Evan had made his peace with death and never looked back.
“It just doesn’t feel right. I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels like…” Percival trailed off. He didn’t know what it felt like. “Something’s off.”
“Yeah. You said that already.” Evan turned away from Percival and looked toward Karl. Evan motioned Karl forward.
“He says we haven’t moved because something doesn’t ‘feel right.’ Your turn.” Evan walked away as Karl crouched next to Percival.
“You feel it too?” Karl asked.
Percival nodded. He was glad that someone else thought something wasn’t quite level. “It’s… too quiet, you know?”
Karl nodded. “It feels like the quiet before a storm. Too few zombies outside and on the streets. I noticed it while we were walking. Not enough corpses to justify it being other survivors who cleared the way for us either.”
“Felt like someone was watching
us as well.” Percival frowned. He felt hunted.
“Well, we can’t just sit here for good, and we both know that, regardless of our feelings, it’ll be safer to search that dealership and the gun shop down the block while the sun’s still high in the sky.”
Percival nodded. If nothing else, a daylight search would allow them to conserve their flashlight batteries until they got deeper into the building where the sun couldn’t reach.
“Do you want to go with Sarah or Evan to check the pumps?”
“That’s awfully kind of you to give an old man the choice.” Karl’s face cracked into a smile. He couldn’t be more than twenty years older than Percival. “It’s been awhile since I had a good chat with Sarah. I’ll team with her.”
Percival nodded and turned away from the dealership. He walked the short distance to where Evan and Sarah stood talking in hushed tones. They stopped as Percival and Karl walked up.
“We’re splitting up and going in,” Percival said.
“Why’re we splittin’ up?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t want to be here any longer than absolutely necessary. There’s something wrong in the air and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Regardless, splitting into two pairs will let us search the building faster and get gone sooner.” Percival waited for objections. When none came, he continued, “Sarah, you’ll be searching for the gas pumps and checking for fuel with Karl. Evan, you’re with me. We’re checking for anything of use inside.”
Sarah and Evan nodded.
“If nothing else, we’re going to meet back here at,” Percival checked his watch, “three o’clock. The usual signals for emergencies and evacuation apply. If the shit hits the fan, make for our safe-house, don’t wait for the other team.”
“Right. Got it,” Karl said. “Well, let’s get going Sarah.”
“Oh, the joys of working with the elderly,” Sarah said in a playful tone. She’d also teased Percival for being older than her at times. Karl certainly didn’t seem to mind the jab at his age.
“Let’s go, young’un.” Karl walked off, moving to circle the dealership.
“Alright, kiddo.” Percival walked in the opposite direction. He approached the dealership from straight on.
The lot was mostly empty. The cars remaining looked as though they were firebombed and little more than the frames remained. The front of the dealership was littered with glass and debris. The large plate glass windows that once protected the showroom floor had been shattered long before Percival and his team had arrived. It created a crunching sound as he and Evan moved across the large, empty room. Percival still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following and watching him.
“Where to, boss man?” Evan asked. He had lowered his hunting rifle and had it loosely cradled in his arm.
“Don’t know entirely. I guess we pick a hallway.” Percival clicked his flashlight on, holding it in one hand and a pistol in the other. Several hallways stretched away from the showroom, leading deeper into the building. The further they moved from the showroom, the darker it was going to get. “Your instincts tellin’ you anything?”
Evan shrugged and started walking toward a random hallway.
Percival wasn’t about to complain. He didn’t know in which direction to begin their search and the one Evan had chosen seemed good enough to him.
The walk down the hall led them deeper into the building. They walked past ruined and ransacked offices. Many had glass fronts that were now shattered. Not a single one had anything worth looting beyond a pen or two. There wasn’t a zombie either, nor the rancid smell that came with the walking corpses.
After nearly half an hour of searching what were obviously the individual offices of salesmen and finance officers, Evan and Percival found their way into the maintenance bay. They passed the littered customer area and pushed past the doors labeled ‘Employees Only.’ Inside were racks of tires, cans of oil, boxes of parts and a trio of lockers.
Percival ignored the items of car repair and walked straight to the lockers. The first was smashed beyond the ability to be opened. The second had its locking mechanism snapped off, and the door hung open showing an empty locker. The third was what drew Percival’s attention at all. It was still secured with a dust covered padlock.
“Jackpot.” Percival smiled at Evan. He handed his flashlight to the youth and holstered his pistol. He pulled his crowbar from his duffel bag and jammed it between the body and shackle. “Can I have some light here?”
“You shouldn’t have given your light away then,” Evan quipped. He turned the light onto the crowbar and lock. “You realize tha’s probably still locked for a reason, right?”
“It’s in pristine, but dusty, condition. If someone had had the time to loot it, it would have been looted with the other two.” Percival gave the crowbar a sharp twist. The lock groaned as the shackle was pried up out of the body. Percival couldn’t resist grinning as he removed the lock and pulled the locker open. “Whoa.”
Inside the locker were a dozen handheld two-way radios. Each sat in a little charging station. “Yeah. This was still locked for a reason alright.”
“Want to bet that they don’t work?” Evan panned his flash light up and down the rows of radios.
“Sure. Two shifts of watch once we get back to the campus says they still work.” Percival picked one of the radios out of its cradle.
“You’re on.” Evan watched.
Percival clicked the radio on. A green light immediately blinked to life. He took his flashlight back from Evan and directed its beam to the top of the radio, checking to see what channel it was on.
“It turns on at least.” Percival picked another radio from the locker and clicked it on as well. He turned the second radio to the same channel as the first.
“Just ‘cause they turn on don’t mean they work.”
Percival held the first radio at arm’s length and depressed the call button on the second. “Testing.”
“Testing.” His voice echoed half a second later out of the other radio.
“Told you they worked.” Percival stuffed his crowbar back into his duffel bag and proceeded to do the same with the dozen radios after turning the initial two off once more. “We should head out the—“
Something crashed to the floor behind them. Percival let the duffel bag swing on his arm as he swept his flashlight around the room. Evan was doing the same. Both of them were silent.
Percival lifted his helmet’s visor and took a whiff from the air. It smelled like dust and motor oil. He didn’t smell the rank rotting of a zombie, but that didn’t necessarily mean one wasn’t out there in the darkness; or in another nearby room. He hadn’t been able to precisely pinpoint the source of the crash.
He pushed his visor back down and zipped the duffel bag closed before drawing his pistol.
“You see anything?” Evan asked.
Percival was more than a little amazed at how calm the kid sounded. Percival certainly didn’t feel very calm. In the tight confines of the shelves of spare parts and oil, it would be difficult to fend off an attack.
“Nothing. There’s a lot of shit to hide behind here.” Percival swept his flashlight along the shelves once more. “It’s bein’ quiet.”
“It’s been quiet all day…“ Evan said, his voice trailing off.
A growl erupted from the direction of the door they’d come through. It was low, threatening, and almost animalistic. It was distinctly disturbing to Percival. He immediately wanted out of the dark confines of the parts warehouse.
“Ain’t there a back door around here?” he asked in a suddenly hushed tone.
“How the hell should I know?” Evan spat back.
Another growl rose, between them and the door. It sounded louder, and closer. Percival didn’t want to meet whatever was making the noise. He trained his flashlight in the direction he thought the noise had come from.
“Loop to our right, head to the wall. Let’s get around this thing,” Percival said. His wo
rds were quiet and fast. “If we’re lucky, there’ll be a door leading to, like, a maintenance bay or something.”
Evan didn’t speak, he just acted. He moved away from the lockers and in the direction Percival had indicated. Percival followed him as another growl echoed through the warehouse. The clack of nails or claws on the hard cement floor now followed them. The sound reminded Percival of a dog’s nails on a hard floor. The effect was to make him feel further hunted and he dropped his flashlight’s beam to the floor rather than keeping it at chest level.
“I see light.” Evan was at the wall already.
“Go toward it. I think we’ve got an infected dog or something here that we’ve stumbled into.” Percival continued to back away from the lockers.
“Dogs don’t get infected, and that didn’t sound like no dog to me,” Evan said.
A growl erupted from the direction of the doorway and was answered by a second growl from the lockers.
Percival uttered a string of obscenities. He’d bumped into the wall and could see the vague outline of a door in the darkness. “There’s more than one.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Evan said. “You seen it yet?”
“No.” Percival closed the gap between Evan and himself. He felt only slightly safer having the young man at his back.
He watched his direction, listening to the slow methodical clack of claws on the cement. His heart pounded in his throat, and he let out a short scream as an arm sent parts boxes tumbling to the ground as it lashed out at him from the nearby shelves.
The arm clocked his helmet and turned his head away from his attacker. He saw stars for a moment, though it didn’t stop him from lifting his pistol and firing blindly, and point blank, into the screeching human face that the arm belonged to.
Percival pulled the trigger of his pistol until it stopped working and he felt Evan’s hand pulling him toward the door. His ears rang from the rapid succession of shots in the closed off area, despite his motorcycle helmet, and he felt a little disoriented as he followed Evan through the door.
He was thankful that it wasn’t locked. Another growl, followed by a screech, echoed through the warehouse. Percival was vaguely aware of something leaping past the door as he and Evan cleared it.
