Up until this point, Mila had viewed Josh as someone who had seemed level-headed enough even if he had a tendency to be a little churlish on occasion, but now she saw the crazed glint in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I mean because deep down inside it’s what everybody thinks. There are only a few who are ever honest enough to admit it though.”
“You’re insane,” Mila said in little more than a whisper.
The madness suddenly dissipated from his gaze, and he turned to look at Mila with a small crooked smile. “Go ahead. Call me names. I give you a chance to live out your life in peace and still you show me no gratitude. You are a prime example of what I’m talking about.”
“We should thank you for letting us live like savages in the woods?” Chuck said, exasperated.
“Yes. Yes, you should, because it’s more than the inhabitants of Safe Haven will have. Marcus, the one we found at the house,” he said, turning to Mila. “He told us what he knew, but it wasn’t enough. Wren told me the rest, and now I know the geography, the manpower and the weaponry. I predict we’ll take the town in less than a day. By the time we’re done there won’t be a single one of them left standing. If you see her again, make sure you tell Wren thanks from me.” He closed the first of the doors. “Now remember, if one of you so much as pops your head out of here before I drive away, I’ll fire. Have a great day,” he said with a wicked glint in his eye as he slammed the other door shut.
“Scheisse!”
CHAPTER 15
Wren and Robyn placed their weapons down and shrugged the rucksacks from their backs before they got to work removing the pews from the front doors. The heavy wooden furniture screeched as they dragged it over the slate floor. Rosie helped them, and within a few minutes, the doorway was clear.
“Okay,” Wren said. “When we get out of here, we’re going to have to run as fast as we can. At some point they’re going to see us, but we want as much distance as possible between them and us by that time, do you understand?” She looked to Rosie, who nodded nervously. Robyn had already slid her backpack and quivers back on and walked over to stand by the door. She placed her fingers on the key and was about to turn it when a loud crack stopped her.
“What the hell was that?” she asked, turning towards Wren with panic on her face.
“It sounded like a shotgun blast.”
“What, you mean like the shotgun Josh had that was only going to be used as a last resort?”
“Yeah.”
Robyn withdrew her hand from the key. “I guess that means we’re not going anywhere.”
✽ ✽ ✽
The boom of the shotgun was almost deafening in the confines of the van. Mila and Chuck listened as the engine of the other vehicle drove away and they felt the rear driver’s side wheel slowly deflate.
“Come, we must go,” Mila ordered.
“You heard what he said.”
“Yes I heard, and I also hear the engine driving away. That shot will have alerted the infected. We do not want to get stuck in here.” She felt her way through the darkness to the doors and fumbled with the bolt. There was a screech of metal against metal as she lifted it, and the left door swung open, letting in a wide arc of daylight. “Scheisse!”
“What is it?” Chuck asked, coming up behind her.
“My swords. They’re gone.”
“Oh, bloody ’ell. So if they come for us, we’ve got nothing to fight with?”
“Scheisse,” she said again, jumping down. She looked at the flat tyre then ran to the cab. “Scheisse.”
“What now?” Chuck asked.
“He took the keys.”
“So what’s next?”
“We need weapons. Before anything else, we need weapons.”
“And where do we get those from exactly?”
“When you were in the school, did you see anything useful?”
“It wasn’t really like we looked around. We barricaded the door then ran to the far end and escaped through the window.”
“Come, we will find this window.” There was no sign of a charging horde for the time being, but both of them knew that could change at any second.
“Right bloody day this is turning out to be,” Chuck said, and they set off at a sprint around the school building.
✽ ✽ ✽
Confusion reigned on Wren and Robyn’s faces as they heard the sounds of the engine approach before fading into the distance. “Was that your friends?” Rosie asked.
“I don’t know what it was,” Wren replied, suddenly realising that the banging on the door had stopped. “Oh crap.”
“What’s wrong?” Robyn asked.
“The banging. It’s stopped,” she said, gesturing to the rear of the church.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Rosie said.
“No. We’ve gone from knowing where they all were to not having a clue.”
“So what do we do?” Robyn asked.
“I don’t know, Bobbi. I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said, flopping down onto one of the pews.
“There’s no way Mila would have left us, so whatever that was, it wasn’t her.”
“But something bad’s happened; otherwise we wouldn’t have heard the gunshot.”
Robyn let out a long sigh and sat down beside her sister. Wolf walked up to them both and placed his head on the thick wood between them. Both girls reached out and began to stroke him. “I suppose this means we’re stuck here,” Rosie said, pushing the glasses back up her nose.
“No, we need to get back to the school,” Wren said. “It’s just not going to be as straightforward as I’d hoped.”
“Yeah, ’cause it was going to be really straightforward before,” Robyn replied.
“You know what I mean.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“You asked me that about a minute ago and the situation hasn’t changed in that time, Bobbi. The second I figure something out, I’ll tell you, okay?” Robyn reached into the side pocket of her rucksack and pulled out a Mars bar. “How can you eat at a time like this?”
“I’m hungry.”
“But how can you be hungry? We’re in a nightmarish mess, and all you can think about is your stomach.”
“Look, it’s not my fault. When I’m hungry, I’m hungry, it’s not like I’ve got any control over it. My stomach tells me that it wants food, and I eat.”
“Well, maybe your stomach can say something useful for once and figure a way out of here for us.”
“I’ll be sure to ask it,” Robyn said, taking a big bite.
Rosie’s eyes widened to the size of golf balls. “Do you have any more chocolate?”
“See, it’s not just me,” Robyn replied as small globules of chocolate spit erupted from her mouth. She reached into her rucksack, pulled out a Double Decker and threw it across to the young girl who eagerly tore the wrapper off and began to eat.
Wren just shook her head and stood up. “We need a plan.”
“Let me guess,” Robyn replied. “We’re going to set something on fire.”
“Funny. No, we need to find out where the infected are; then we need to figure out a way to get back to the school.”
“And you figured that out all by yourself?”
“You two bicker a lot,” Rosie said before taking another bite of her chocolate bar.
Wren and Robyn looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Do you have any siblings, Rosie?” Wren asked.
“No, I was an only child.”
“I envy you.”
✽ ✽ ✽
“I suppose the kitchen will be the best place to start,” Mila said.
“Well, it’s not like you can get lost in this place. Come on,” Chuck replied, leading her down the corridor.
All the internal doors were shut, but each had a narrow pane of safety glass that allowed a thin strip of daylight to bleed through. “Those swords were the only thing I had left from my pa
st,” Mila said softly.
“They’re only things, lass. We’re standing, and we’re walking, and we’re breathing, and that’s something, isn’t it? When you think about what’s happened to so many people, just to be here heading down this corridor … well … that’s … something.”
“They represented something I did, something that changed me.”
They reached the kitchen door and paused outside. Chuck smiled. “You’ve just said it yourself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You said they represented something you did. They might have represented something, but it was you who did it, wasn’t it? It was you who actually changed something in your life, not the swords that changed you. Whatever changed in you for the better, those swords being taken doesn’t have any effect on that.” He prodded her chest. “It’s what’s in here”— he prodded her forehead “—and here that makes you who you are. It’s you who decides what you can and can’t do, not a couple of strips of metal.”
Chuck was over six feet tall. His wild eyes, scraggly beard and tattooed arms made him look like someone unapproachable, but in that moment Mila saw an angel, wings and all. A smile broke onto her face, and she flung her arms around him. Chuck was taken aback and stood there for a moment, remaining rigid, not really sure how to respond. Eventually, he placed his right arm around Mila and patted her back gently. When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Chuck. You may look like some mad street person, but you have the wisdom of … err … a eule. How you say? Owl. The wisdom of an owl.”
“Err … thanks … I think.”
“We will be good friends. I know this.”
“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who can make that sound like an order.”
Mila let out a small laugh and dabbed the tears from her eyes. “You are funny too.”
“Who’s joking?”
She smiled at him again, tiptoed up to him then pecked him on the cheek. “Come,” she said, sniffing away the rest of her tears, “let us find weapons.” She pushed the door inwards revealing a small but well-equipped kitchen.
“The storage pantry was just by the door over there. We didn’t really check out the rest of the place.”
“Let me know if you find anything interesting.”
The two of them separated, but they quickly came to the conclusion that they were not going to find a magical cache of cleavers. Essentially the school meals consisted of lots of tinned food with the odd fresh item thrown into the bargain. Mila found a couple of sharp knives, which she placed in her belt before discovering a drawer full of baking equipment. She pulled out two long, weighty rolling pins and swished them around as if she was practising with her swords. “They suit you,” Chuck said with a grin. “What are you going to do, bake us some fat rascals?”
Mila paused. “Fat rascals? What are these?”
“You’ve never heard of fat rascals? Bloody ’ell, lass, you haven’t lived. My mum used to make them all the time. They’re a bit like a rock cake or a scone.”
“Ah yes, obviously another fine English delicacy I have missed out on. I shall have to learn to live with the disappointment.”
“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Used to love fat rascals, I did.”
“Seeing how you ate at dinner last night, I’m guessing you used to love most things, yes?”
The grin on Chuck’s face broadened. “You don’t muck around, do you? You think something and, without any delay, it just comes straight out of your mouth.”
“It depends who I’m with. You strike me as someone who prefers bluntness.”
“Aye, well, I don’t suppose there’s much point in beating around the bush these days is there?”
Mila smiled. “Like I said, you and I are going to get on well.” She looked towards his hands to see he had found two knives similar to the ones she had scavenged. “You have found weapons too, yes?”
He looked at the shiny blades and placed them one on each side of his belt. “I’d prefer something a bit more substantial. A place like this, they must have a caretaker or a handyman or something. You’d think we could find more than this.”
Mila raised an eyebrow. “Ja, ja, that is good thinking. We will go look.”
“Aye, well, I’m not as stupid as I look.”
“I did not think this could be possible.”
✽ ✽ ✽
“Okay, look. They’re not banging at the door anymore, so the chances are they went running after the van as it went by. You know what these things are like, some of them might still be following it,” Wren said.
“Yeah, and some of them might not,” Robyn replied.
“Well, we can’t stay in here forever.”
Robyn threw her empty wrapper on the floor and stood up. “Right, this is what we’ll do; we’ll take a look out of the side door. If the coast is clear, we’ll make a run for it and climb over the fence. They won’t be able to follow us over there.”
“Uh-huh. And how does Wolf get over the fence exactly?”
“Damn, I forgot about Wolf. So our only way out is the way we came in.”
“Yep.”
Robyn walked up to the entrance and placed her palm on the wood. “We’re not going to know whether we’re in trouble or not until we open these doors.”
“Wouldn’t the side door be safer?” Rosie asked.
“Not really,” Wren replied. “It won’t give us a clear view of the way out.” She walked across to join her sister. “Feel better after your Mars bar?”
“Much.”
“This is our only option.”
“I know.”
“It never stops being scary, does it?”
“What, you mean heading out into the open knowing full well that there could be an army of zombies lurking around the corner who want nothing more than to rip you apart?”
“Yeah.”
“No, not really.”
The two of them returned to the pew and collected their weapons; then Wren turned to look at Rosie. “Stay with us at all times. Don’t run unless we run. Don’t make a sound. The difference between doing these things and not is death. Do you understand me?”
Rosie nodded then immediately pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Yes,” she replied, gulping.
Wren looked down at Wolf who was looking up at her adoringly. She crouched down and kissed him on the head. “Come on then,” she said, and the four of them walked back to the entrance.
Robyn grabbed an arrow from her quiver and nocked it then stood back a little from the door.
Wren took a deep breath and slowly slid the bolt across. The clunk of the mechanism was louder than she had hoped and she cringed a little. “Okay, this is it,” she whispered, placing her hand on the thick wood. “Three … two … one.”
CHAPTER 16
Mila and Chuck had almost given up on the chance of finding some kind of caretaker’s office or cupboard by the time they reached the first floor. It wasn’t until they got to the end of the corridor that they came across a sign with a brass plaque that was too faded to read in the subdued light. Mila reached into her rucksack and pulled out the torch that Wren had given her. She shone it towards the panel and shared a smile with her companion as she read the word, “Maintenance.” She tried the handle, but it was locked. “Scheisse.”
Chuck gently guided her to one side. “Stand back, princess,” he said before unleashing a mighty kick against the door. There was a thunderous crack as the wood splintered. It was followed by a bell-like ring as the locking mechanism clanged against the floor. “After you.”
Mila stepped through the door of what was essentially a large cupboard with no windows. There was a desk with an old lamp on it that was covered in paint and dust, but it was the two metal shelving units that she was interested in and she began to pan the torch up and down looking for anything that might be useful. As well as an array of cleaning tools and equipment, there were toolboxes, cones, health and safety signs
and all the associated paraphernalia you would expect for a person who needed to carry out hazardous work in a public place.
“We should be able to find something in here,” Mila said as Chuck began to rifle through the toolboxes. He pulled out a claw hammer and looked at it gleefully.
“Well, it’s not exactly a samurai sword, but it’ll do,” he said.
Mila grabbed a straight-edge screwdriver, which she placed in her belt, and let out a long sigh. “I see nothing else,” she said sadly.
“Hang on a minute, I do,” Chuck replied, picking up a box of nails. He angled them in the torch’s beam. “Ninety mil. They’ll do.”
“They’ll do what?” Mila asked.
“Here, give me your rolling pins and shine that torch over here,” he replied, dragging one of the shelving units a few inches from the other. He took the first rolling pin, placed the top end of it in the gap and hammered one of the nails through, followed by another, then another. By the time he was finished, shiny nails were protruding from the top of the hefty lump of wood in multiple directions. “How does that suit you?”
Mila took her newly fashioned weapon and felt the weight of it in her hand before swiping it through the air. “I like this,” she said, smiling.
Chuck grabbed the other rolling pin and immediately got to work on it too. “Well, they ain’t swords, but they’re something.”
“You are a useful man to have around in an apocalypse.”
I just like tinkering, that’s all. It’s all I did for Larry back in the day, but it seemed to work.”
“You undersell yourself. You are a clever man.”
“Ha. You need to speak to some of my old teachers, I’m pretty certain they’d disagree with you.”
“I do not measure intelligence by exams and qualifications. I have met so-called geniuses who struggle to understand how to turn on a kettle. The acquisition of knowledge and the application of knowledge are two different things, yes?”
“I suppose they are, yes,” he replied as he began to hammer once again.
✽ ✽ ✽
The End of Everything | Book 9 | The End of Everything Page 12
