Disclaimer : This was based on an original concept by SJ, although I think he envisioned it with more chainsaws. *G* The song belongs to Therapy?, I own it in no way whatsoever. If you want full lyrics they're available on the official site - and while you're there, download the new webgig as well. It's awesome.
My dear young lover, this is just to say I’m gone
I couldn’t face your face the morning after waking
Was my loneliness that kept me hanging on
Forgive my emptiness there’s nothing more to say
And this is why
Our love must die
She swung her legs out of the hammock and stepped down onto the concrete. The potted trees hid that spot from general view, and Andrea had claimed it as her own. It was secluded and quiet, so long as you remembered to bring earplugs.
If you didn’t, you were constantly aware of the shuffle of feet from the other side of the chain link fence, and the noise would drive you insane.
Andrea removed her own earplugs, folded her blanket on the hammock, then made her way back through the winding pathways. The plants in their plastic trays were all thriving, due to the amount of rain they’d been getting recently, although weeds were beginning to spring up in a lot of the pots. Andrea made a mental note to tidy them up at some point… even though there wasn’t any real need. It would just make her feel better to know that there was still a little order in the world. Also it would keep her busy for an afternoon. Keeping busy was just as important as remembering to carry earplugs.
The automatic doors to the main building were propped open, since the boys had disconnected everything but the essential electrics several weeks ago. The stickers on the doors were still as bright and garish as they had been when the store had been open, and Andrea wondered how long it would take for them to fade and peel. Probably they would outlast anyone who even remembered the great 25% Bank Holiday sale they advertised.
Inside it was cool and dark. The main lights were rarely switched on because they used too much power, and instead lamps fitted with energy-saving bulbs had been set up at intervals throughout the store. They cast a warm, homely glow over the shelves and displays, giving the illusion that maybe the store wasn’t as vast and dark as it sometimes appeared. The only natural light came from the thin ventilation windows set high up near the ceiling. Music played quietly from hidden speakers. A few weeks ago, Robert had discovered a radio station that was still active and which, rather than sending out the same outdated emergency information as all the others, played music continuously. No voice ever spoke between the records and no-one had any idea of where it might be being broadcast from. Robert alternated between two theories: either it was some lone nut holed up with a home broadcast centre and no intention of letting all the other nuts out there know where he was; or it was an automated system at one of the larger stations, left unattended and still piping out a random selection of music to a dead world.
Whoever or whatever it was, Andrea was strangely grateful to them. The music from the radio had kept most of them sane these last few weeks.
She wondered where Robert was at that moment. The store was so full of hidey-holes that people could disappear into for hours, if not days, at a time. John, for example, had made himself a den in the carpet section, shifting the giant rolls into a huge interlocking log cabin structure and filling the inside with rugs and packaging foam. If Leo hadn’t insisted that everyone meet up at least once a day for an evening meal then it was unlikely John would ever come out of his den at all. Still, he seemed happy enough.
Andrea circled around the gardening section and went through the silent checkouts to the vending machines. The automatic toasty-maker had been gutted, its parts used for other, more important things, and its edible contents long gone. The candy machine was still intact though, its lock broken so that anyone could open it any time they wanted. Chocolate was something they had plenty of, and for some obscure reason Leo had taken to refilling the machine whenever it was nearly empty. Again, it was probably just something to keep him busy.
Taking a slightly soft Dairy Milk bar from the machine, Andrea wandered to the front of the store. The glass doors were boarded over, but if she’d paused and listened hard she could have heard the sound of scraping, dragging feet outside. She didn’t bother to pause or listen. Instead, she climbed the ladder that had been set up next to the door.
‘Hi.’ Leo greeted her as she pulled herself up into the Hide. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing, just wandering. Have you seen Robert?’
‘Not today, nope.’ Leo was sat on a plastic summer chair that looked too small for his big frame. There was an old paperback resting in his lap, and an opened can of Coke at his feet. He was staring out over the carpark, watching the figures outside milling around. The Hide had been specially constructed by him and John on top of the entranceway so that they could keep watch. The timber walls were insulated with bubblewrap, and the small square windows were covered with chicken wire and a layer of thin, sticky-backed plastic that was mirrored on one side, so that whoever was in the Hide could look out but those outside could not see in. If the survivors in the store had had any long-range weaponry then it would have been placed up there as the first line of defence, but they didn’t. They had roughly a hundred blunt and sharp weapons, plus another hundred powertools (although only limited power), but no guns or anything like that.
‘We’re getting a bit low on supplies,’ Leo said then. ‘In another day or two we’ll have to make a run to Agromart.’ He looked away from the window then, smiling at her. ‘You wanna come on this one?’
The DIY store they were holed up in had more going for it than just its defensive capabilities. The yard behind it backed onto that belonging to a wholesale food store, and it was from there that the small band of survivors had got their food supplies. There was enough tinned and dried food to last them for years. The only problem was that the yard around the wholesalers was unprotected by a fence, and hence was always filled with the slow, lumbering creatures that roamed around out in the car park. The best system that the boys had come up with was a forklift truck that they had almost completely covered in sheet metal. It was just large enough for two people to fit inside, and a large crate bolted to the front could be loaded with food from the wholesalers and brought back home. After the first abortive run when the truck had got itself wedged on one of the fallen creatures and had to reverse very quickly, John had fashioned an improvised cattle-plow and fixed it to the front. So far, it had been working fine.
‘I guess it’s probably my turn,’ Andrea admitted. ‘Don’t want anyone to accuse me of not pulling my weight.’
Leo had already turned his attention back to the car park. ‘Nah, we’d never do that.’
Not out loud, no, Andrea thought. It was strange how a little thing like the end of civilisation had set back the equal rights movement by thirty years. Suddenly it wasn’t about equal pay and adjusted retirement ages—it was about men fighting the monsters and protecting their womenfolk. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that equal rights had been put back to the Stone Age. Andrea had spent a lot of time feeling disgusted at herself for how easily she had accepted the regression. When the Panic had started, it had seemed perfectly natural for the men to take charge. She had barely given it a thought, and neither had they. It was only now, months later and with a tentative sort of balance established in their lives, that the gender divide had begun to blur again and the men had started to wonder why the token woman wasn’t contributing as much as the rest of them.
Andrea sighed. She would have to go on the next run to the wholesalers, no matter how much the idea scared her.
She stood up. ‘I’m going to find Robert.’
‘See you at dinner.’ Leo picked up the book from his lap, although his attention wouldn’t stay there long. His gaze was eternally drawn to the creatures outside; so much so that most of his time was now spent in the Hide. Watching the monsters that used to be people seemed to be infinitely fascinating to him.
Andrea climbed back down the ladder and headed towards the rear of the store. If Leo didn’t know where Robert was then it was almost certainly a waste of time asking John, who had only the vaguest of interests in the world around him at the best of times. Instead she decided to check the most obvious places first, since Robert tended to stick to his habits. Just like the rest of them.
He wasn’t in the area that he and Andrea had reserved as their sleeping quarters, and he wasn’t on the balcony upstairs. Andrea paused there, in what had once been a coffee bar and was now their main eating area, and looked out over the store. From the vantage point at the railing she could see out over all the aisles and through the double doors at the far end to the garden centre, although she could not see any of the other people she shared her confinement with. Music played softly in the background; some song she didn’t recognise. Not for the first time she thought how unnatural the store looked, empty and barely lit. There was something strangely disconcerting about the vast shadowy space that, in other times, had thronged with weekend shoppers.
She crossed the balcony and went through bathroom supplies to the fire escape in the far wall. This door had been propped open as well, the alarm long since disabled. Beyond it, a concrete stairwell led up and down. The door on the lower floor that led outside had been welded shut soon after they’d moved in, but the door to the roof had been left untouched. Robert frequently made his way up there and would sit for hours, reading or sleeping or staring out over the countryside.
Andrea climbed the stairs and found the door to the roof propped open with a piece of wood. That was a good indicator that Robert was up there—he usually left the door ajar, as it had a nasty habit of jamming shut while you were outside. He had obviously retired to the roof to get some privacy. Andrea sighed. After their argument the previous day he had seemed moody and withdrawn, but she had thought he’d snapped out of it by the morning. At breakfast he had seemed his normal self… well, as normal as any of them were these days. When she’d told him she was going for a nap in the garden he had kissed her on the cheek and told her he’d come find her later.
She went out on the roof, making sure the door did not swing shut. The wind tugged at her hair, but at least the sun was still shining. From the rooftop there was a fantastic view across the hills, over as far as the sea to the east and the mountains to the north. The only thing that marred it was the pall of black smoke that hung over the city, testament to the fires that still burned unchecked there. The silence was eerie. No cars passed by on the main roads encircling the industrial estate, and the sky was empty and free of vapour trails. There wasn’t even any birdsong, because the birds were all gone. Nothing really remained except the small, isolated communities of survivors, and the walking dead. That was the only noise—the constant drag of shuffling footsteps across the tarmac of the car park. Andrea didn’t go to the edge of the roof to see how many were out there now, because it would only depress her.
Robert had placed a chair at the far side of the roof and was sitting facing out over the burning city. The chair had been taken from the garden supplies display, and had a yellow sun painted on its green fabric backing. The sun smiled at Andrea as she walked towards Robert.
His head was hanging down, as if he had fallen asleep there. Andrea approached him quietly, not really wanting to disturb him. He hadn’t been sleeping well recently, complaining of nightmares and being able to hear the noise of the undead outside, even through the walls. It was no surprise that he would doze off in the warm sun. They were all feeling the stress of their current situation, even though they were technically safe at that time.
There was a small pile of something white and square next to the chair, but it wasn’t till she was closer that she realised what they were. A half dozen small cardboard packets, all stacked neatly and placed to one side. Robert’s hand dangled loosely off the arm of the chair, hanging down towards them. The shadow of his fingers fell across the packets, but Andrea had already recognised them for what they were. Her sharp eyes immediately sought out the second neat pile: foil-covered bubble trays from inside the packets. The plastic bubbles were all empty. An open bottle of water was standing next to them.
Robert’s eyes were half-open and staring at nothing. A slight froth had formed on his lips.
Andrea reached for him instinctively. He just looked asleep, despite the fact that his eyes were open. He’s just asleep—he’s come up here for some peace and he’s fallen asleep and that’s all. He hadn’t been sleeping at night; something was playing on his mind; that didn’t mean he would have done anything…
She touched his shoulder, smoothed her fingers over the cotton of his shirt. He didn’t react. She gripped him harder, digging her nails in. He said he’d see me later, is that the sort of thing you’d say if you’re planning on doing something stupid? She shook him urgently.
Robert’s head snapped up suddenly, his eyes going wide.
‘Oh my God,’ Andrea said, half in fright and half in relief. ‘Robert, you scared the hell out of me. Are you alright?’
Robert turned his head to look at her. He had that vacant, startled look that Andrea recognised from the times he been woken during the night by bad dreams. He stared at her, apparently unable to focus.
‘Baby, I’m sorry.’ She smiled at him. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just worried…’
He still wasn’t focusing. He must have taken a couple of sleeping tablets, that’s what the packets are for… he just wanted some rest… Andrea helped him to stand up, slipping her arms around his back. Her heart was still pounding but still felt nothing but relief that he was okay. He had scared her, he really had.
‘It’s okay,’ she told him soothingly. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’
Robert reached up and took hold of her shoulders, leaning in towards her. He buried his face in her neck. His grip tightened as his teeth brushed against her soft skin, paused for a moment, then bit down hard.