Chapter Five : Expedition

From where he sat he could clearly see the front of the op shop, the hanging sign on the door said 'closed.' Although it was several streets away from what he was now thinking of as 'his' safe house, the strip of small shops hadn't been at all challenging to get to. For the most part it had been a casual stroll, a couple of times he had to use front yards as cover because of stray wanderers looking for food. He tried not to think about the people trapped in the rows of houses he walked past. Families turned to unspeakable horrors, forced to devour each other. Now hidden in a tidy front yard across from the shop he surveyed his target. Almost certainly it would be locked front and back, forcing him to either break a door down or smash a window. He didn't like the idea of climbing into a shop not knowing if he could unlock the back door. Having only one escape route was a dangerous game to play. If he climbed in and there was someone or more likely something in there, he didn't like the idea of climbing back out the window in a hurry. He wondered if he even had the strength to break a door down, surely it wasn't that easy of a task that any twelve year old could do it. So that pretty much left him with the window. Then there was the noise factor and the glass to deal with as well as having no where to run. Now that he was here it looked like it was shaping up to be a fruitless trip. The sun was hot and crouching in the garden bed behind bushes was an uncomfortable way to spend any amount of time. Drinking from the water bottle he had bought with him, he pondered the next move.

The window didn't shatter like he imagined it would, the large paver bounced back leaving a large indent and a spiderweb pattern of cracks. He ran forward to retrieve the paver before heaving it a second time at the window. This time it made a hole but only big enough for the brick sized cement to disappear into the shop. The noise on the quiet street seemed louder than it really was and he looked around to see if it had attracted any attention. Running back to the garden bed he grabbed another paver from next to the space where he had dug the first one free. Running back this time instead of throwing it he used it to widen the hole by tapping the shattered glass away. It was slow work and he had to stop continually to check no one was coming. He worked the hole to the bottom of the window still and sideways just wide enough for his small frame. The whole pane was covered in cracks now and only held together by a film inside the glass. Looking around cautiously he crossed the road and lay on the lawn, he didn't want to risk getting trapped in the store. Laying in the sun he wished he had someway to tell how long he had waited. He didn't want to leave in case someone decided to climb in while he was gone. After what seemed like a long time, some corpses arrived, wandering under the awning and around the car park. They didn't seem to notice the obvious hole in the otherwise perfect row of shops. Looking around they searched for living things to feed upon. After looking around the empty car park for a good half an hour they began to stand about aimlessly. Watching the small group of figures carefully the boy counted them, six in total. They stood about conserving energy, meanwhile he patiently waited for them to lose interest and move on. Just when he thought it wasn't going to happen at all, something moved down the street and they all headed in that direction in a hurry. He risked crouching and looking over the fence to see what had drawn them away. A stray dog skittered around the street as they drew close it barked, bolting down the street and away. Thinking about it now he realized he hadn't even considered the possibility of zombie dogs roaming the street. Thankfully this dog was alive and somewhere off in the distance it barked at its attackers.

The inside of the shop was crowded with racks of clothes, shoes and brick a brach on shelves. The quiet mixed with the familiar smell of thrift cloths set his nerves on edge as he hurried through to the back of the shop. The back door was dead bolted, without keys he wouldn't be able to get out this way. Although the back room had a door and was lockable, in case of trouble he could always retreat to here and lock himself in. It wasn't the best plan and he knew that once they had a reason to hang around that the zombies wouldn't stray too far. Going back into the store he started looking for the bag section, the gloom was making it hard to see but his eyes were starting to adjust and he found a crate with a variety of bags inside. After a quick search he found a backpack as well as a sports bag. Going through the clothes he took anything that would fit him and shoved it in the backpack. After the bags were full of cloths he left them near the front display before having a look around. The staff fridge had lunches in boxes with names taped on them and there were some snack bars. He took the bars and went to have a quick look behind the counter. The register was an old type, little more than a drawer and it opened easily when he started testing the buttons. Whoever had locked the store had left the till in, lots of small value note and coins filled the compartments and a large smile crept across his face. It was a strange feeling he had as he stuffed the notes into his pocket with the coins making his jeans bulge. As he thought it over it occurred to him he might never get to use cash again, it seemed kind of pointless. It was a hard psychological road to take and it seemed easier to just pocket the money, one day he might have a use for it. He went back to the two bags he had packed, shouldering them he gave the shop one final glance over.

The thrift shop was the last in a row of small shops consisting of six stores. Next door was a small barber shop followed by a deli and then a independent grocer. There was a liquor store with a video shop on the opposite end of the complex. He paced quickly past the windows as he checked all the doors, not surprising they were all locked. Little stickers proclaimed that the larger shops were alarmed and monitored by a probably defunct security company. Still risking an alarm seemed foolish, maybe he could find another way in. Feeling more confident he sleuthed around the back of the building to try the doors hidden between skip bins and cardboard piles. As he expected they were all locked, the only thing left was the roof and with no obvious way up, it would have to wait for another time, it he had any. He looked at his hands, the bite marks were scabbing over and the swelling was almost gone. He should have at least started getting sick by now, he wanted to think that he was immune somehow, that this wouldn't happen to him but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something terribly wrong inside of him.

The noise of a car starting cut through the almost silent atmosphere startling him out of his thought. It was hard to tell how far away it was but it seemed to be getting closer. He ran to the front of the shops to get a better view, just as a early model commodore swerved wildly onto the street. It screamed down the road with someone's legs hanging out of the passenger side window. He barely had time to see what was happening when it scraped past a phone box. The phone box exploded in a shower of glass as the car smashed into a telephone pole, crumpling and spinning to the curb. The person hanging out the window was violently torn, one leg had been left behind amongst the shattered glass while the other hung loosely over the car door. The drivers side door opened spilling a girl out onto the road, there was blood coming from small cuts on her face and hands and she bled freely. He rushed over to her and she turned over and kicked at him screaming. He was taken aback by her, it took him a minute to realize she thought he was a zombie.

"Its ok" he said and paused as she looked strait at him. "I'm ... human." he had wanted to say 'not infected' but had stopped himself and chose human instead. He compulsively looked away into the car where the top half of what was left of what once was another human. Her blood was dark and running down the inside of the door, her face was down in the seat and he was glad not to have to look at the face. Turning back to the girl he held out his hand to help her up, she looked over the bite marks and tried to stand on her own. With a lot of wincing, she managed to stand but her leg was shaking and it was obvious she was in a lot of pain.

"Over here" he beckoned her across the car park to the hole in the shop window. She didn't question just tried to walk, her leg buckled and she almost went down. He went to her aid and supported her on one side while she managed to limp with him to the window. Getting through the hole was a challenge and she had to crawl to fit, he waited patiently while she got herself inside.

"There's a room in the back" he called through to her before he ran back to the car. There were already infected moving down the road towards him. He stepped out onto the road so they could see him clearly and he tried to count them. Seemed like more than had chased the dog away earlier there was at least ten maybe more. He started walking backwards down the street, they quickened their pace when they seen their prey was moving. He knew now why he hadn't turned yet, he had a purpose to fulfill. Walking quickly to the end of the street he tried to see if they were all following. When the last of them were past the end of the shopping complex he started jogging away to stay ahead of them.

His parents yard was just as he had left it days ago. Seeing it again bought back feelings of carefree days as a child. Once through the side gate it was a dead end with quite high fencing around it. The zombies weren't giving him a lot of time to think and he really needed a distraction, something to keep the stragglers coming. Running to the cubby house in the back corner of the yard he pulled himself onto the roof. Using himself as bait had seemed like a good plan and he probably could have lost them easily had he ran. What he really wanted though, was to get them off the street so as he wouldn't have to risk running into them on the way back to the girl. The back yard had seemed perfect at the time but now he was here, he worried they wouldn't all get through the small side gate. The last thing he needed was a horde of undead around the only hose he knew was safe. Trying to keep their attention he stood on the small structure and yelled at the top of his lungs, whooping and whistling. They grouped in the front yard and began to file into the yard, crashing into the cubby house and trying to climb it desperately. He counted eight against the wooden structure and there were three more in the front yard trying to find their way back.

"C'mon" he yelled at the struggling three.

The small house wasn't built to withstand such an onslaught and it was starting to wobble with every push.

The jump saw him land in the neighbors yard on the concrete driveway, he narrowly avoided falling forward on his face. Running to the lawn the dog carcass lay lifeless with its head smashed in, it was putrid and made him gag as he got to it. Grabbing hold of its legs he dragged it to the fence leaving a dark smear on the drive as he did so. He tried to lift it but he found it to heavy to dead lift over. On the other side of the fence the zombies pounded the fence and it flexed with their weight. Holding on to two legs he started to swing it back and forth, getting higher with each pass until he felt that the momentum would carry it over. When he let go it got caught on the iron, the torso flopping over with the back legs hooked over the top. The waiting horde pulled it over violently bending the tin as they did so, with no way to tell if they were all in the yard, he went to the shed and grabbed the long handle shovel.

Going through the house he crept out the front door. There didn't seem to be any left in the front yard, quickly he crossed to his old house and closed the side gate. Looking through the gap he watched them as they consumed the dog like wild beasts. Tearing pieces off with their hands and moving away from the huddle to consume it un disturbed. Tearing his eyes from the horror he made tracks back to his safe house, the smell of rotting flesh was clinging to him and he needed to wash before returning to the girl. He didn't want to leave her there alone overnight without at least talking to her first. He was excited about seeing another human survivor, lost in thought he walked into the front yard and standing in the drive before him was a tall gaunt man. His eyes were the familiar blue black orbs that he had come to fear, as though they seemed a little dim, hazy almost. He stared stupidly before he slowly gathered interest and began moving towards him. Frozen to the spot his heart raced, the man must have been there when he walked past before, obscured by the house. As the dead man gathered speed his panic snapped and he remembered he was holding a shovel. There was just enough time to bring it up before the man was upon him. He lashed out with it although it was a spear and caught the guy in the stomach. The force pushed him backwards and the zombie doubled over, it slowed his pace but only a

little. Pushing back harder put them in a deadlock neither gaining ground, he knew the dead man had the advantage so he jerked to the side and let the unsuspecting creature stumble past him. Taking the opportunity he lashed out again, this time going for the back of the legs. It caught the man on the back of his knee joint, putting him off balance and sending him down. Now that it was down his confidence went up and so did his feelings of anger. All the frustration and fear welled up and he swung the shovel in a wide arc as the man tried to rise. The blow glanced off it's head and he slumped forward again. Still moving trying to rise while dark blood ran from a split in the back of his skull, the boy swung again this time tearing the scalp away from the bone and forcing him back into the ground. Aiming for the arm he swung again snapping it with a loud crack as it folded into a awkward position. If it felt any pain it showed none and he felt no pity for this once human, now dead creature. He kept swinging his weapon until he had no breath to lift it again and the corpse in the driveway was a bleeding mess. It's head was cracked and oozing a dark fluid while the rest of his body was at odd angles, forming a collection of unconventional shapes. He gathered his breath for a moment, watching to see if his victim would move again. It didn't seem likely but the muscles were still contracting and twitching. Playing it safe he bought the blade down on the back of its neck jumping on the shovel trying to remove the head. The mans neck cracked as he tried to force it through with all his weight but it was harder than he expected and he nearly fell over. Swinging like he was wielding an axe, it took quite a lot of swings to remove the head and in the end he was totally exhausted when he left the corpse in the drive to wash up.