Fear the Dead: A Zombie Survival Novel (9 page)

Chapter
11

GO AWAY.

I looked at the message painted in red
letters on the wholesaler wall, and I wondered if we should listen to it. The
building was a giant warehouse with a main entrance that faced us as well as a
row of windows, though the glass was dirty to see anything inside. Round back a
truck was parked up, and although I couldn’t see it, I guessed there would be a
larger entrance that was used for deliveries. The whole place was deathly quiet,
and if there were any infected hanging around, I couldn’t see any of them.
Above the main entrance there was a sign that read ‘NJB Foods”.  The place
looked so silent I wouldn’t have believed Justin’s warning of how dangerous it
was were it not for the spray of bullet holes carved into the brick wall facing
us, and the long smear of blood on the floor.

“About as optimistic a welcome as I
expected,” I said, looking at the crudely painted message.

Justin squinted. He was starting to look
more and talk less, a turn of personality that I welcomed. “Doesn’t look like
the hunters.”

We were sat on a grassy embankment a few
hundred yards away. We’d been here two hours so far, and my feet were starting
to itch. I wanted to get in, grab enough supplies for the journey and then get
on our way. We’d already wasted too much time over the last couple of days, and
with the hunters lurking out there somewhere, I needed  to get as far away as
possible.

“Tell me everything you remember about
this place,” I said.

Justin looked confused. “I’ve never been
here.”

“I mean what Moe or the others told
you.”

He took a deep breath. “They said it was
well-stocked and untouched, and that’s why Moe sent a scout party here. But
like I said, they never came back. People assumed they got killed.”

“Could have been the infected.”

Justin nodded.

I looked up at the sky. The storm cloud
had decided not to follow us here, though my back was still wet from where the
rain had seeped through earlier. I shivered.

“I don’t want to spend any more time
here than we have to. Follow my lead, keep your mouth shut and for god’s sake
do exactly as I say.”

Some part of me had expected to find the
wholesalers locked shut as if the owner, sensing the shitstorm that was about
to engulf the world, had locked it up tight. Instead I twisted the handle and
the door opened, and for a second I was so surprised I almost didn’t want to
step inside.

As soon I walked in a sour smell hit me.
It was the smell of rotting food, a stench so thick that it stuck to the back
of my throat. Justin lifted his sleeve to his face and covered his mouth.  We
walked around a corner, opened another door and then we saw it.

There were rows upon rows of shelves, but
most of them were empty. Of those that did have food, most of it was thick with
what looked like hair, but I soon saw that it was mold. Apparently there had
once been a fresh produce section, but now it had rotted so badly that it
resembled a mossy tumour. On the other rows there were a few cans scattered
here and there, but most of the shelves held only dust. My heart sank.

“Could be more at the back. It’s a big
place,” said Justin, trying to reassure me.

Something was wrong here. All my nerve
endings were on edge, and all of them were firing a message up to my brain that
translate as ‘GET OUT’. Maybe the sign on the front of the building had been
right; perhaps it was best to just go away. But who had written it? Who had
taken all the food? Whatever had happened, we were going to have to explore
more before giving up.

The warehouse seemed to stretch far
back, endless rows of metal shelves that were as long as a bus and reached up
to the ceiling. I couldn’t see the back of the room, because the further back
the warehouse stretched, the darker it got. I guessed if I walked to the end I
would find the delivery doors. 

With so little natural light coming in
from the windows and the complete failure of the electrical ones, the place was
a dark abyss.

Justin took a step forward. I put my
hand on his shoulder. “Remember what I said; you’re not Indiana Jones. “

“Who’s Indiana Jones?” he said.

“Just don’t go running off. I don’t
trust this place.”

The sound of every step we took echoed
off the floor and drifted up toward the ceiling. It was like walking in a cave.
As we walked past the rows of empty shelves Justin ran his finger along one of
them, disturbing the dust.

“Stop that.”

The further into the warehouse we went
the dimmer it became, and we had to stop to let our eyes adjust. It was an
eerie place; so black, and so still. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end,
and my eyes started to see things in the shadows. Part of me wished we hadn’t
taken this route; surely the threat of emotional pain couldn’t have been as
nerve racking as worrying about what lurked in the shadows? Should we have just
gotten a car?

“Kyle, look,” Justin whispered.

I followed his outstretched hand and
when I saw where it led, my breath caught in my chest. Wedged between two
shelves was a small tent, and inside it was the faint shape of a person.

My pulse started to quicken. Someone was
definitely in there, and from the outline of their shape, they were sitting up.
That meant that they were aware of us.

So why weren’t they moving?

I reached for my knife. Whoever it was,
whatever their problem was, I wasn’t taking any chances. Nor was I leaving here
with nothing. They would have to be dealt with right now. I took a step toward
the tent and crouched at the entrance. I flicked my hand in the air and
beckoned Justin over to me.

He moved hesitantly, and his steps were
quieter than usual. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of this.

“You pull the zipper,” I said.

He looked at me and swallowed.

“I’m right here,” I said, and held my
knife in the air ready to strike.

The darkness of the warehouse seemed
heavy now. The utter silence was so thick that it was like another presence in
itself. It could be our ally or our enemy, I knew. Silence helped you hear what
was there, but it could also betray your own footsteps.

Justin grabbed the zipper. I could see his
hands shaking, and I felt my own heart hammer. I took a deep breath and tensed
my arm. Whoever came out of that tent, whatever their state, I wouldn’t give
them chance to strike.

He slowly moved his hand. The sound of
the zipper moving was louder than it should have been, and out of instinct I
looked around me as if someone were listening.  Justin stopped, and looked at
me. I nodded for him to carry on. He moved the zipper all the way to the top,
and the tent door flapped open.

I thought whatever was in there would
come charging out, but for some reason it didn’t move. I waited, my bicep
tensed, my hand wrapped tightly around the knife, but there was nothing. I was
going to have to get in the tent.

I got Justin’s attention and pointed at
his belt. By now he was beginning to understand my unspoken commands better,
and he reached down and took hold of his knife. He held at shoulder height, his
arm stiff. I pointed at him, then at my eyes and then at the tent. He nodded.

Taking a deep breath and holding it in
my lungs, I got to my knees. I could feel my body start to shake, so I tensed
my muscles. I started to crawl slowly into the tent. Adrenaline shot through my
body, and my veins throbbed. I felt panic rise up in me, and I tried to bury it
deep inside me, tried to keep arm ready to send my knife plunging into whatever
was in the tent.

It was for nothing.

There was nothing in there but a pile of
cardboard boxes. I let out a breath and almost smiled at my idiocy.

Behind me, there was a moan. Justin
screamed out, and I had just enough time to see something move out of the
shadows and toward him before he fell into the tent, sending the fabric
crumbling around me.

“Justin!” I shouted.

I hunted for the entrance. On top of the
now-collapsed tent Justin wrestled with the thing. From the snarls it made it
must have been an infected, and both it and Justin were so heavy that they
weighed down the fabric of the tent on top of me.

Taking care not to accidentally hit
Justin, I swung my knife and sliced through the tent, cutting an opening big
enough for me to escape through. When I was out, I saw that he was led on the
ground, and his hands were wrapped tightly round the throat of an infected. His
arm muscles were straining with the effort. The monster struggled against him,
snapping its teeth so close to Justin’s eyes that it nearly took off his
eyelashes.

I took a step forward and grabbed the
infected by the hair, but the scraggly strands tore from its skull too easily
and sent the infected’s face closer to Justin.

“Hold it up,” I said.

The infected snarled and gnashed its
teeth. Justin let out a grunt, and with all his strength he held the infected’s
head toward me. I gave one short, strong stab with my knife and pierced its
skull, sending the metal deep into its brain.

I took a deep breath and let my heartbeat
settle.

“You can put it down now,” I said.

Justin let the infected’s body drop to
one side. His eyes were wide with shock and he was panting.

“Deep breaths kid,” I said.

I looked around me. I couldn’t see any
more of them, nor could I hear the tell-tale moans that said they were near.
That didn’t mean we were alone, though.  I looked up at the shelf next to me,
and suddenly my eyes were as wide as Justin’s.

“Think we got lucky,” I said.

Justin followed my gaze and saw what I
was looking at. The shelf next to the tent was empty, all save one row at the
top, on which were several boxes full of tins. I couldn’t see what they were
and I didn’t care; they could be tinned fruit, beans, chili or spaghetti, it
didn’t matter. It was food, that’s all we needed. That would be enough.

“Okay monkey boy, time to climb again.”

Justin put his hand on the shelf and
shakily pulled himself up.  I put my hand on his shoulder. “Think you can do
this?” I said.

He nodded. His breaths were steadying
and his eyes came into focus.

“Good. I’ll let a little light in here,”
I said. I didn’t want him climbing twenty feet up the shelf in the dark,
because the last thing we needed was him falling and breaking his leg.

I walked past a row of shelves and to
the back of the warehouse. There were two enormous metal shutters, which as I
suspected, were used for trucks when they made deliveries. If I could open them
and let a little light in, it might just give enough visibility to let Justin
to climb safely to the top of the shelf. Then we would get the hell out of
here.

I unhooked the bolt, took hold of the
door handle and put my weight behind it. Slowly, the shutter started to move
open and cracks of daylight seeped in. I strained against it and slid the door
all the way to the end, then stood to admire the afternoon sun.  When my eyes
adjusted to the light, I stopped dead. My breath choked in my mouth, and I my
throat was tight.

 In the yard outside, a mere twenty feet
away, there were over fifty infected walking around. They all saw me and then
turned in my direction, their arms outstretched and their teeth clamping
together. They starting moving in my direction, toward the warehouse.

I turned and ran over to Justin. He had
started his climb onto the shelf, and he was about halfway up.