Grave Ties

by James Bailey

Grave Ties

  by

  James Bailey

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Grave Ties

  Copyright 2011 by James Bailey

  baileymrb@gmail.com

  *****

  The heat of the sun was sweltering, I had to stop somewhere, anywhere to rest. Ahead I could see an old abandoned gas station about half a mile from where I was walking, a couple of abandoned vehicles parked in front of the store. Reaching to my belt I pulled out my water bottle, it was almost empty. Swigging the last of it I put the empty bottle back in its pouch and picked up the pace.

  As I drew closer I saw that one of the vehicles, an old beat up pick up truck parked outside the front of the store, had something or somebody moving inside. I reached behind me and pulled out my pistol, then thought better of it; I only had two rounds left. Instead I pulled out my baseball bat that I kept sticking out of my backpack that was slung over my shoulder.

  One of the truck’s doors opened and a man got out, walking towards one of the petrol dispensers with a box of tools. Another man exited the truck from the other side and walked towards the store. He glanced to the side and saw me walking towards them in the distance. He stopped instantly and reached behind him to pull out a rifle.

  “I’m cool! Don’t shoot!” I shouted, hoping they would hear me. I was surprised to see someone alive out here, I hadn’t seen a living soul for a week. I kept walking towards the pair slowly, hands raised above my head but baseball bat still in hand.

  The man with the tool box muttered something to the other man that I couldn’t hear. He raised his rifle from pointing at my head but didn’t sling it over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing here friend?” He called over to me as I slowly walked towards them.

  “Looking for shelter and supplies. My camp was attacked, I am the last one left.” I said.

  “Last one eh? How come you got away and no one else did?” The man with the tool box asked.

  “I ran faster than the rest.” I said without emotion. I was still recovering from the attack last night, still trying to deal with the deaths of my new found friends that died around me in a matter of minutes, my own brother included.

  The man with the rifle grunted. “Fair enough. Come, help us clean this place out and you can come back with us. Our camp is a fair drive away but it is secure as they come.”

  “Thank you.” I responded,dropping my hands and walking towards them more relaxed. “I am happy to help you guys out but once I resupply and get some ammo I am heading back the way I came.”

  “Why? You just said they are all dead, whatever you left behind can be replaced,” the man with the rifle said.

  “My brother is there, he is one of them now. We promised each other we wouldn’t let the other stay turned. I am going to keep my promise.”

  The two paused for a moment, looked at each other and had a brief conversation in what sounded like Spanish. The man with the rifle looked back at me, pausing for a moment to look me over.

  “Here.” He handed me his rifle and some ammunition he had in his pocket. “Take this, I have another in the truck and plenty back at camp, take this ammunition too. She’s a good rifle with a long range. You can put your brother down and still get out of there alive. Jerome here, will draw you up a map to our camp.” Jerome nodded towards me, put his tool box down and walked back to their pick up truck.

  I looked at them in shock, I had expected to be shot or robbed not helped by these people. “Why would you do this for me?” I asked.

  “We all got family, we all lost family too. I’d do the same in your place. Come, help me clean this place out then we’ll get one of these other cars going so you can get back to your old camp a little quicker than walking.” The man said.

  “Thank you. Really, thank you. I am Frank.” I held out my hand, he grasped it with a firm grip and shook it strongly.

  “Jay, pleased to meet you my friend.”

  The two of us walked into the service station, I kept my eyes and ears peeled for any noises or movement. It was unlikely that any of the undead would still be in here, they were strong enough to break out of most places, but you could never be sure. A stench invaded our nostrils immediately, flies buzzed around the room. There was dried blood on the floor, a trail leading to a half eaten body in the far corner. Only the bottom half remained, a shotgun lied next to the corpse.

  “Looks like he won’t be going too far.” I said.

  “Critters must have got to him after the dead were finished with him.” Jay said.

  With the rifle held in front of me I moved through the service station to the rear door leading to the office. The door was ajar so I nudged it with the muzzle of the rifle. There was nobody inside, just scattered papers on the ground and a half empty bottle of scotch on a desk at the back.

  “We’re clear,” I called to Jay.

  “Good, some great supplies here, I’ll see how Jerome is going with the fuel then we can start loading up the truck.”

  “No problem,” I said as I went back into the office. I looked on the desk at the scattered receipts and invoices, there was a notepad in the middle of the desk amongst the chaos of paper. Scrawled on it in black pen were three words in shaky hand writing. In the toilet!

  I picked the paper up, confused. I hadn’t seen a bathroom here, although there must be one somewhere. Thinking about it I assumed it must be around the back of the building.

  As I thought this I heard shots fired from outside. Rushing out of the service station, rifle in hand I looked around for Jay and Jerome, they were no where to be seen. Another shot was fired, sounded like it was from behind the building. I circled round the building slowly, rifle cocked and ready to fire. I knew from experience to be careful running round corners, it only took a second for one of them to bite you.

  Rounding the corner I saw Jerome dead on the ground, his throat torn out. Jay was on the ground leaning against a wall breathing heavily. A body was in front of him, it looked like a teenage boy, although his clothes were torn and ripped and his skin was white and pasty. A large hole had been blown in the back of his skull.

  “You okay Jay?” I called out to him, keeping the gun pointed on the body.

  “It was in the bathroom, Jerome must have gone to take a leak without thinking. I came round looking for him and it jumped me.”

  “You bit?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  Jay held up his arm, blood was dripping down his arm. “I’m bit,” he said smiling sadly.

  I walked over to Jerome’s body and put a bullet in it’s brain, then moved over to Jay and crouched down in front of him, still keeping distance between us.

  “I am sorry Jay.”

  Jay grunted. “Funny you know. Made it through the nightmare in the city, must have taken out fifty of the things with my car just driving out. Found some survivors, started making a new home. What happens eh? Get taken out by some turned kid outside a bathroom in the middle of nowhere.”

  “You have a couple of minutes from what I have seen in others. What do you want me to do.”

  “We still need supplies, the camp does anyway. Jerome has drawn up a map, it’s still on the passenger seat of the truck. Load it up with what you can, food, fuel cans. Whatever you can carry and take it to my people. Please.” Jay said, pleading with his eyes.

  “I will head straight there after I take care of my brother.” I said, I moved over and held his hand.

  “Thank you my friend. Say goodbye to my sister for me, tell her I love her. I am ready now.” Jay said.

  I nodded and rose slowly. Jay closed his eyes as I aimed the rifle at his head and fired.