Infected- The Beginning

by Perry Stevenson

  The woman and the boy moved to the man’s side.

  “Oh, this is my son Thomas and my wife Kerry, and I’m Tim.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tim. There aren’t too many of us ‘normal’ people left,” I said.

  Miles and Brian arrived at our side, and I introduced them to Tim.

  “So, what happened in the store?” asked Miles.

  “We’re about to find out,” I said. “Apart from Tim trying to shoot everything that moves, we are all fine.”

  Tim began to tell his story.

  “We came to the store to collect some timber about three days ago, the idea being to secure our house as advised by the government. When we arrived at the store everything was OK – the outer doors were working and everything seemed to be fine. There were lots of other people in the store too, and it seemed like a regular shopping day. We had just reached the checkouts when at least fifty infected people, maybe more, entered the store. They came through the main entrance but also the exit door. Like other people present, we didn’t realise they were infected at first – until they started to bite people at random, causing absolute panic around the checkout area, which soon spread to the rest of the store. Two guys had brought shotguns with them and started to shoot the infected, but they started to panic with frustration when some of the infected kept coming at them even though they seemed mortally wounded. In the end one shot the other by mistake, and the surviving gunman froze for a few seconds as he took in what he had done, giving two of the infected a chance to bite him. He walked away in a daze, and that’s when I seized my chance to grab the shotgun and the belt of cartridges the man had about his waist, the idea being to give us a chance to escape from the store.

  “I must have reloaded the gun four or five times before we finally approached the exit, but then the power went out and the doors shut and seemed to lock themselves. Not thinking clearly, I tried to open them with brute strength but they wouldn’t budge. By this time a number of infected were heading our way, and if we had stayed in the lobby area we would have been trapped, so I shot two of the closest, which gave us enough time to move along behind the tills. We went back into the store through the power tools section, reaching the centre aisle. Looking along it, there was absolute chaos – girls and women were screaming as the infected bit into them with the occasional shout of warning as men tried to protect their families. There was nothing we could do, especially when I saw a normal woman turn into an infected person in front of my eyes. I ended up shooting her. That’s when we withdrew to the men’s toilet and blocked the door. Fortunately, Kerry had bought some fruit earlier and we had it with us when we had to lock ourselves in. We will never forget the sounds coming from the store. We waited in silence for the screams and groans of pain to stop.”

  The man had finished recounting his tale of woe.

  “So, why didn’t you shoot the window out of the door with the shotgun?” asked John.

  “Well, I didn’t want to break anything,” Tim said meekly. John looked skywards.

  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t worry about that in the future,” said Miles.

  “Do you live far away?” asked Brian.

  “Not far – near ASDA. Hopefully my truck is still in the car park,” replied Tim.

  “We came across some people while in ASDA who also live nearby – they’re with us here collecting timber. We cleared the store of infected probably less than an hour ago, so you might want to get your supplies while you can. One other thing – where was the other man with the shotgun?” I asked, thinking I might be able to obtain a few more cartridges.

  “He was in front of the tills, about halfway along,” replied Tim.

  “I’ll introduce you to Fred – come with us,” said Miles.

  John accompanied me to the tills after collecting our trolleys on the way, as Miles, Brian, Tim and his family set off along the centre aisle to locate Fred, Ronnie and Tina.

  John was the first to discover our shotgun man. We had to move one infected person lying across his torso, but we found a side-by-side double-barrelled shotgun, and the man still had 15 shells in his cartridge belt, and we managed to extract another 20 from his pockets. This guy seemed to have had some idea of what he was doing – they were Eley Hawk Alphamax loaded with triple-A shot, a 0.2-calibre ball. I fed five of them into my shotgun, put five more in my pocket and filled the belt up with the remainder.

  Bill and Mat joined us with their fully laden trolleys. We moved a few bodies that were blocking the path to the exit doors while we waited for the others to arrive. Eventually, Miles and Brian appeared with trolleys and then Fred and Tim, with families in tow. Tim collected his discarded trolley from behind the tills. After lifting the trolleys over the sill of the exit door with some difficulty, we stood by Miles’s acquired Transit van. Tim left us to get his truck, which was parked near the centre of the car park, and fortunately it started first time. He then made his way towards us.

  “Fred, you’d better take this,” I said, giving him the double-barrelled shotgun and the belt of cartridges.

  “Thanks. Tim’s going to take us home via ASDA,” Fred replied.

  Linda and Ruth had now joined us.

  “You lot took your time! I see we have some new friends,” said Linda.

  We turned our attention to Tim’s truck as he stopped in the roadway beside us. It was a Mitsubishi L200 in silver – very nice, I thought, apart from a couple of holes in the offside passenger door. Tim jumped out, looking annoyed.

  “Do you see what someone has done to my new truck?” Tim said.

  They looked like .22LR bullet holes.

  “Oh, that’s a shame,” said Ruth, then looking a little sheepish and turning away and heading back towards John’s truck.

  We loaded up Tim’s truck first, eventually saying goodbye after extracting Fred, Ronnie and Tina’s shopping from Brian’s MPV. We stood in silence as we watched Tim negotiate a path though the corpses that littered the rain-drenched car park. We dumped all our ill-gotten gains in the back of the van.

  “Time to go home, guys,” said John, now thoroughly soaked. Before he had even finished his sentence, we were all on our way, intent on finding somewhere dry ASAP.

  John led our small convoy through the corpses on the glistening tarmac. Most of the blood and small body parts had now been washed away, and the smell of death had been cleansed from the air by the rain. Even the numerous vermin had disappeared from the scene as they sought shelter. As we approached the car park exit, the body count started to increase, forcing John to drive over a few arms and legs before we finally reached the main road. In normal times, drivers have to turn left onto the dual carriageway, but John ignored this and turned right onto the nearby roundabout, and went under the flyover that had been full of infected when we were picking up Brian and Linda, which seemed like a million years ago now. We were soon on the main dual carriageway heading towards Boreham. The rest of our five-minute journey to Connor Way was uneventful. John pulled up at our front door and our following convoy parked next to their own residences.

  “OK, time to get wet again,” said John.

  We all piled out of the truck, and Mary went to open our front door.

  “You were long enough,” said Tom.

  “We had a few technical hitches! Your supplies are in the back of the truck with ours,” I replied.

  John, Tom and I went to help the ladies sort out the shopping between our respective households.

  “We have this, James – you and John can get the other gear from the van,” said Mary.

  Needing no further encouragement, John and I walked across the close to where Miles and now Jeffrey were extracting supplies from the back of the van, with Maria, Martin and Ziggy taking things into the house. Two wheelbarrows were at the side of the van.

  “How you doing, Miles?” I said.

  “Nearly done.
”

  “We’ll leave you one of the wheelbarrows, as we won’t need two – I hope.”

  John and I lifted the generator out of the van and took it through our side gate, depositing it in the garden shed. Next, John collected one of the wheelbarrows and I picked up two plastic bags full of torches and batteries, leaving a few for Miles.

  “OK, that’s it – time for a cup of tea, something to eat and, more importantly, to get dry,” I said.

  “OK, may see you later,” said Miles. “I’ll put the van back in the barricade.”

  “I’ll do the same with the Micra,” I said.

  John and I waved goodbye to the rest of our small community, Mary and Josephine had gone into our house, and Tom and Ruth waved at us from their front door before disappearing from view.

  “I’ll take the wheelbarrow round the back, Dad – see you in a minute,” said John.

  I went into our living room to find a heap of supplies on the floor with Mary and Josephine standing over them in a fresh set of clothing. Sheba ran up to me wagging her tail, so pleased to see us after being left alone for a few hours. I stroked her dutifully as I decided where to put the shopping bags.

  “I’ll let you decide where you want to put these,” I said to Mary, adding the two plastic bags to the pile.

  John entered the room, and was surprised at the quantity of goods.

  “So, where are you going to put this lot, then?” he said. Sheba trotted over to him, hoping for another stroke.

  “Don’t you worry, I’ll find a place,” Mary replied. “You and James can move the cars.”

  John and I picked up our respective car keys and went back into the rain, John parking the truck at the side of the house, while I put the Micra back in the barricade. Miles had already done the same with the van.

  Once back in the house, John and I dried ourselves off and put on a change of clothes. I made the tea, and John helped me put some sandwiches together. Mary and Josephine had managed to put most of the supplies away, and only a few remained. They were discussing the best place for them as John and I entered the living room with sandwiches and tea in hand.

  “Haven’t you two finished yet?” I asked jokingly, taking up residence in the nearest armchair as John sat in the other. Sheba sat in front of me, her tail wagging vigorously in the hope of getting something to eat.

  “It’s alright for you two to sit down – you can put some of these torches and batteries in the loft,” Mary ordered.

  “OK, OK, we’ll do that later,” I replied. “Let’s eat and drink first, then John and I will check over the guns and ammo, and then we’ll put whatever in the loft. First, I need to rest.”

  Once we had finished eating, Mary and Josephine retired to the kitchen, while John and I checked over the guns. We loaded all of the .22LR 25-round magazines and I filled the cartridge belt with a fresh load of 3.5-inch magnums and added a few more to my jacket pocket. I helped John to move the remaining supplies from the living room floor into the loft. We then returned to our armchairs, and Mary and Josephine joined us in the living room, sitting on the sofa.

  “So, James, what are you going to do tomorrow?” asked Mary.

  “Yes, John – what are we going to do?” added Josephine.

  John and I looked at each other and said in unison, “Nothing!”.

  “Although, Dad, I would like to try out that high-powered rifle,” added John.

  “Is that all you have to do?” asked Josephine.

  “Yes, it’s a day of rest for Dad and me tomorrow,” replied John.

  “OK, we’ll bore-sight the scope tomorrow in the garden, then take it over to Culver Farm,” I said.

  “Where exactly is that?” asked Josephine.

  “Bottom of Plantation Road, turn left and then go down that dirt track by the sharp bend on Church Road,” replied John.

  “Do you mean where we take Sheba for a walk?” Josephine continued.

  “That’s right.”

  “So why didn’t you say that in the first place? – it would have been a lot easier,” added Josephine.

  “That’s a good idea. We’ll come too and it’s about time Sheba had a run out,” said Mary.

  “Make sure you take Sheba’s lead – we don’t want her running loose while trying out the rifle!” I said.

  Eventually, the room fell silent and I must have fallen sleep. The next thing I knew, Mary was shaking me.

  “James, it’s nearly six o’clock – you won’t sleep tonight if you sleep much longer now. And Josephine has made us a cup of tea.”

  Josephine was standing in front of me, cup in hand. A few sips of the hot tea soon brought me back into the land of the living.

  “So, what have I missed?” I asked.

  “Absolutely nothing,” Mary replied. “We’re all totally bored. Oh yes, it’s stopped raining.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real pain having no television and no computers to play on,” I said.

  “Josephine and I are going to see Ruth and then on to Linda’s before it gets dark,” said Mary. “We’ll see you two in a couple of hours.”

  They disappeared out of the front door.

  John and I sat in silence for all of 15 minutes. John was the first to break the silence.

  “What shall we do, then, Dad? I’m going to go nuts without anything to do.”

  “I suppose we could check your .375 out, and bore-sight it ready for tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that. Err … how do we do that, then?”

  “Grab your rifle, scope, mounts and a box of ammo so we can test that it’s going to feed the rounds OK, and follow me,” I said, leading him into the garden.

  It’s amazing how quickly the weather can change in England, and we walked out into warm evening sunlight, with not a cloud in the sky. Steam was rising off the crazy paving as we approached the garden shed. John helped me set up the Black & Decker Workmate just outside the shed, which gave us about 22 yards to the top right-hand corner of the garden. Using the Allen key provided with the scope mounts, we attached the 4–12x50 scope to the rifle, making sure there was plenty of eye relief, as this rifle would have quite a substantial recoil and if the shooter was to close he could end up with his eye being put out. Removing the bolt, we could look directly down the barrel of the rifle. Setting up an aiming point in the corner of the garden, we aligned the rifle by looking down the barrel at the aim point and then clamping it to the Workmate, and by adjusting the scope’s crosshairs to our aim point the scope and rifle would be pointing in the same direction. John cycled a few rounds through the three-round magazine, which went amazingly well. This took much longer than I had imagined, as by the time we had finished the sun had started to set and the light was beginning to fade. We put the tools back in the shed and returned into the house.

  “That went well,” said John. “Mmm, it’s eight-fifteen and Mum and Josephine aren’t back yet. It’ll be dark by nine.”

  I had already put a pot of water on the gas stove for a cup of tea, without even thinking – force of habit, I suppose.

  “We’ll have a cup of tea first, and if there’s still no sign of them we’ll go and get them. Let’s face it, they were going to be late getting back anyway – they’re women,” I joked.

  Outside, the light was fading rapidly now, and a strange quietness started to fill the air as the wildlife began to sleep. The distant sky had turned into a red-orange glow, which seemed to be approaching us fast. Was this a warning – trying to tell us that the pending darkness belonged to the infected?

  “It’s a quarter to nine, John,” I said. “I’d better see if I can locate our other halves while it’s still light.”

  “Yeah, women can be a real pain sometimes. I’ll light a few candles and get a couple of torches ready.”

  I opened our front door to go out. It appeared darker in the sh
adow of the house than I first thought when looking at the sky through the front window. Walking across the short driveway, I could see the hedge ten yards away. I stopped as I heard Mary saying goodbye, and a few seconds later she and Josephine appeared from behind the hedge. I waited for them to reach me. Apart from the footsteps on the tarmac, a menacing silence filled the air, and as the ladies arrived at my side I was about to speak when a dog began to howl in the distance, which made me hesitate for a few seconds.

  “Took your time,” I said to neither of them in particular.

  Mary was just about to reply when another piercing howl broke out, but much closer.

  “We totally forgot the time,” Mary eventually replied.

  “Let’s get inside – it’s getting really spooky out here,” added Josephine.

  A rustling sound was coming from the small shrubs in Mat’s front garden – the rats had started to become more confident as darkness began to fall. Josephine headed towards our front door at a much brisker pace, when another howl broke the quiet of the night, this time apparently from just the other side of our barricade. We could now hear the sound of many scampering feet, and a dull thump added to the sounds, as if something had jumped onto one of our barricade vehicles. Mary and I picked up speed, endeavouring to catch Josephine up. There was another thump, and then another.

  “Run, ladies,” I said, probably a bit too loud as it seemed to antagonise our pursuers, which started to growl. Josephine had reached our door, with Mary close behind and me bringing up the rear. I pushed them in and slammed the door behind me, but it didn’t shut properly and a whine came from something it had hit. Putting my full weight against it, there was a satisfying click just before something much larger than before hit the door with considerable force. Without hesitation, I pushed the handle upwards, engaging the door’s five locking points. Breathing a sigh of relief, I joined John and the ladies in the living room. Sheba’s hackles were up as she began to bark and growl, sensing the potential intruders.