The inhabitants of a small town find themselves in the middle of an unknown outbreak. |
"Hurry up!" Marcus whispered, looking through the scope of his Remington 673 hunting rifle. Dressed up similarly to his brother, he kneeled behind Ford's trunk when Elliot, Michael and Emily finally reemerged from the shadows of the alley. "As fast as we can, brother," Elliot replied, assisting Michael who's swollen ankle by now became too painful to step. "Get down, you fools!" Marcus signalled them to take cover and pointed towards the park Michael and Emily crossed earlier. "The same lot?" Elliot asked as all three of them sat down behind the car. "Who else?" Marcus mumbled, keeping his right eye glued to the scope. "Looks like they're coming for you, big brother." Elliot chuckled and turned to Michael and Emily. "We did have our fair share of fun with them earlier, but I don't think they harbour any hard feelings. Those brainless beings just follow the gunshots' noise, which I guess comes from the hospital's direction. It seems like folks over there are pretty busy." "That's where we are heading," Michael said and exchanged looks with his wife. "Not the brightest idea of the day, if you ask me," Elliot replied and pulled a semi-automatic rifle from his back. "Colt M4 Carbine?" Michael asked, recognising the model. "Impressive." Elliot smiled and nudged his brother. "Our new acquaintance here knows a thing or two about guns." "Just bloody marvellous," Marcus mumbled again and threw a quick glimpse at the couple. He gave Emily a look she didn't like one bit. But as an attractive woman, she was used to men gawking at her. "What are you packing yourselves?" Elliot asked in return. "Just this knife," Michael replied and put the blade away. "Someone's got balls to wander around just with the knife." Marcus giggled and rechecked his scope. "They are heading this way. How about we get the hell out of here?" "Couldn't agree more," Michael said and peeked through Ford's back window. He noticed numerous shapes emerging from the vegetation and slowly lingering in their general direction on the street's far end. "How many are there?" He asked, watching the growing crowd. "Hundreds, maybe more." Elliot shrugged shoulders. "We lost the count." "How about driving from here?" Michael said and tapped the car's door. "Not with this baby, man." Elliot shook his head. "I've already checked. The front-wheel bridge is busted. It looks like our now very dead lady driver hit the curb pretty hard." "Great," Michael murmured with disappointment. They almost died for nothing. "Don't beat yourself up, buddy." Elliot tapped him on the shoulder. "We haven't come across many abandoned cars with keys in them. People tend to either take them out of habit or a free ride doesn't stay free for long. Anyway, we can't stay here." "Where are you headed?" Emily joined the conversation. "Trying to get out of town," Elliot replied and looked at Michael's ankle. "Looks pretty bad. Are you sure you can walk?" "I can manage," Michael said before asking, "why did you say the hospital wasn't a good idea?" "Enough talk," Marcus growled instead. "Time to bugger off." "So what should we do with you, guys?" Elliot raised a rhetorical question and turned to Marcus. "This man needs some serious medical attention." "Do I look like a doctor to you?" Marcus asked in return. "There is a pharmacy on Maple street, that way," Emily said and pointed to the opposite direction from slowly approaching mob. "It's not far and towards the hospital anyway." "A pharmacy? Hm, that might be useful. We could do with some supplies before leaving town. We can carry on with our original plan from there. Don't you think, brother?" Elliot turned to Marcus again. "Hell, yea!" His brother's eyes lit up. "Could do with some good stuff." "Tell you what." Elliot addressed the couple. "We will help you to get to the pharmacy. Hell, maybe even find ourselves a ride, though I doubt it. Unless, of course, you two prefer to take your chances on your own?" "Oh no, we appreciate your help." Emily jumped in before Michael could open his mouth. She felt much safer with well-armed co-travellers around. "All right then." Elliot nodded. "I have a feeling we'll get along just fine, folks. Let's move before those poor stiffs get a sniff on us." As they left their little resting spot and moved down the street and away from the approaching horde, Michael made a mental note to keep an eye on their new companions. Something about them seemed off to him, and only time would tell if teaming up was a good idea. It took them fifteen minutes to reach the pharmacy. Elliot was right; they didn't come across any functioning vehicles with keys inside. It looked like this part of the town fled altogether, leaving behind just pile of rubbish and scattered corpses, most of which were stripped to the bone. At least they didn't encounter any infected on their way. Michael felt terrible slowing them down, but Elliot assured him it wasn't a problem. Marcus stayed in the rear of their little convoy, regularly checking back on the mob. Soon they lost them out of sight, but the gathering was in constant movement and eventually would catch up if they stopped for too long. Sporadic gunshots in the distance became louder by the time they reached their destination. The hospital wasn't far away, but Michael was beginning to wonder if going there was such a good idea after all. The horde headed that way too. Maybe leaving town was a better option? Brothers seemed to know a lot more about the current situation, and he was burning with questions. "As expected," Elliot whispered, looking at the pharmacy across the street. Lights were out, and entrance doors left wide open with some merchandise scattered around. The place had already been ransacked. "Looks like some folks had very similar ideas to ours." "We should still check it out," Emily whispered. "Looters couldn't have taken everything." "Only the good stuff," Marcus mumbled, checking the entrance through his scope. "Seems quiet." "The lady is right." Elliot tapped him on the shoulder. "It's a big store; we still might get lucky." He turned to Michael kneeling behind him and said, "you two, wait here, while we check for any unexpected company." "We can help," Michael replied, eager to be useful. "Don't worry, mate." Elliot smiled and unsheathed his knife. "You will get your chance." He signalled to Marcus and brothers quickly crossed the street mindful of their surroundings. "Do you trust them?" Emily quietly asked her husband. "Not sure. So far, they helped us. They seem to know a lot more about what's going on. Don't you think?" "Still, something is off with them," Emily replied, watching as their new travel companions kneeled on the opposite sides of the pharmacy doors. "Let's just be careful." "Agreed." Michael nodded. "I'll try to pull out some answers, and if it feels dodgy, we will go our separate ways. What are they doing?" He watched as Elliot picked up one of the vitamin bottles from the pavement next to him and threw it inside. The sound of broking glass echoed from the pharmacy accompanied by a single moan. Meanwhile, Marcus carefully peeked through the open doors and raised one finger. He then carefully extended his rifle across the doorway. "Smart," Michael whispered, watching as the second bottle flew towards the middle of the street. Within seconds a snarling woman in white bloodied coat rushed outside, tripped on the rifle and fell facedown. Before she could move, Elliot plunged his knife through the back of her skull and vanished inside, followed by Marcus. A minute later, he reappeared and signalled the couple to join them. Without ushering a word Michael and Emily rushed into the pharmacy and Elliot closed the door behind them. As it happened, a small group of undead emerged from one of the side streets. Unaware of a handful of people nearby, the infected slowly strolled towards the sounds of sporadic gunshots somewhere in the distance. "I'll check behind the counter," Emily said to Michael as he sat down by one of the empty shelves on the shop floor. As they suspected, most of the supplies were gone; even the personal hygiene section was nearly empty. Marcus was already at the back rummaging through the leftovers and making considerable noise in the process. "Great idea," Elliot said and sat next to Michael. "You go ahead, darling. I will keep an eye on your husband. Just be quick about it. We can't stay here too long." He gave Emily a reassuring smile as she walked away. "And tell that noisy brother of mine to keep it quiet!" Groaning, he placed his rifle on the floor and removed the helmet. "Damn, this thing gets uncomfortable after a while." "That's one of the things I've meant to ask about," Michael said, massaging his ankle. "Well, I guess we have few minutes to spare," Elliot replied and scratched his sweaty head. "Helmet, like the rest of this rather cumbersome outfit is to protect from bites. If they get to you, you are as good as dead." "That infectious?" "More than a damn STD if you risk barebacking a ten bucks station hooker." "How do you know?" Michael asked. "I mean, you guys don't come across as scientist type." "Good observation, buddy." Elliot smiled. "We sure don't. Hunting is our main line of work." "These are not common hunting weapons." Michael pointed to the rifle. "They sure ain't. Ever been to a weapons store on the corner of Kent and Fourth Avenue?" "No….I don't get to that part of town much," Michael replied after a short pause. "You should sometimes," Elliot said. "Lovely place. We paid them a visit when this whole hell broke loose and managed to grab these bad boys before the undead swarmed the area." "Undead?" "Well, technically. Won't go into details, but we saw first hand how some of those killed came back to life after a while." "Jesus. Is this really happening?" Now Michael was struggling to believe his ears. "Very much so. Anyway, we should slowly get ready to move out," Elliot said, took his rifle and stood up. "And this brings me to the next significant point I said about the hospital earlier." "Which is?" Michael asked and also got back on his feet. "It's a terrible idea. The place will be packed with the dead and injured, and those poor bastards won't stand a chance once the main party arrives. That's why we won't be going there. But we could always use a company." "It makes sense," Michael said. "Thanks for the offer but I'm not much of a walker at the moment." "I'm afraid so." Elliot nodded. "As much as I am beginning to like you, Michael, we can't risk you slowing us down." "No problem at all," Michael reluctantly said hiding a growing sense of danger. "Emily, honey, I need you back here! We are leaving!" He called his wife and turned back to the man in front of him. "We will take our chances at the hospital and won't burden you." "And this leads me to the final point," Elliot replied and slowly pointed his rifle at Michael. "My offer does not extend to you, just your pretty wife. Emily will be leaving with us, and we promise to take good care of her." "So much for being good guys," Michael said with irony, starring at the barrel to his chest. "Oh, but we are." Elliot smiled. "We can be very nice, as long as we get what we want. The world has changed, and there's no place for weakness anymore." "I suppose there's not much room for negotiations?" Michael asked and slowly stepped to the left. His mind raced in search of options. The corner of his eye caught a glimpse of movement outside. "Nope." Elliot shook his head and readjusted his weapon. "You are a smart man, Michael, so do a smart thing and drop that little knife of yours." "How did you know where to find us? Did you follow us?" Michael kept asking questions, but did as told and slowly placed his knife on the floor. "We did indeed, from the far end of the park. I enjoyed your little drama at the house. We almost lost you there." "Emily!" Michael called his wife again. "Don't worry, Marcus is talking some sense into her as we speak," Elliot said and pressed the barrel against Michael's stomach. "Now be a good boy and don't force me to pull the trigger. I rather not make too much noise." "So what's the plan for me then, Elliot, if it's your real name?" Michael asked, calculating his odds if he went for the weapon. "It is my real name. And we aren't monsters. Will lock you up here and be on our merry way. You will get rescued with some luck, although judging by what we have seen so far, chances of that are very slim. And if your wife behaves, we will let her go eventually, though she will have better chances of survival if she sticks with us." Emily suddenly screamed in the back of the pharmacy, forcing Elliot to react. "Keep her quiet, you damn fool!" He yelled to Marcus, lowering his guard for a second. This was the chance Michael waited for. With his left palm, he pushed the weapon's barrel away from his chest, grabbed it with both hands and suddenly stepped forward, turning the rifle along with Elliot around and towards the entrance. As he expected, Elliot instinctively pulled the trigger. The bullet shattered the glass door and hit one of the undead to the right shoulder. To be continued |