T.E.O.T.W.A.W.K.I

Chapter Two.

SHELTER.

It was not quick and it was certainly not easy getting out of the city limits. The sun was almost touching the hilly horizon by the time I manoeuvred around the last hastily constructed roadblock and made it to a clear stretch of open road. Freedom. Nervously I kept checking my mirrors, even though I hadn’t seen a crazy for a while, I was still on edge. The radio had long ago switched to a pre-recorded announcement that played on loop constantly; I refused to turn it off for fear of missing something. The monotonous drone of the announcer’s voice, coupled with my lack of food since breakfast I was beginning to feel tired, no, exhausted. Every single muscle in my body either ached or felt like it had doubled in weight. As I passed a sign for a service station ten miles ahead I looked down at my dash, half a tank of gas, maybe it would be wise to stop for a while. I could refuel, grab some more food, maybe even sleep a while, and as far as I know the spread had been contained within in the city, maybe it hasn’t even reached this far. Always the optimist I clung to this piece of hope, maybe there’d be people there, maybe there was a working landline. I had tried my cell consistently every ten minutes, but the network was jammed, probably because most people had the same thought as me. Trying to get in touch with friends, family, loved ones. I sighed; I only had one of those to worry about. My family had all but disowned me when I refused to take over the family business. That was the reason I’d moved to California in the first place, it was the furthest from home I could get without leaving the country. I had no loved ones, sure there was a string of casual flings, but I’d never found anyone I wanted to settle down with. My only true friends were back in NYC, I could only pray they get out before this thing spreads that far north.

I slowed, almost stopping when I rounded a bend and saw the gas station sat by the side of the road, forecourt doused in the blinding light of it’s floodlights. A red truck sat by the pumps, close to the front of the store, but that was it, no other vehicles, no other signs of life. I stopped, engine idling as I surveyed the area and decided on my next move. After ten gruelling moments my eyes began to burn from the strain and intensity of my focus but absolutely nothing had changed, so taking my chances I began to slowly inch my car forward, still on high alert. Cutting off the engine, my car rolled to a stop, slightly off the road but not fully in the forecourt either. It only now dawned on me that I didn’t have anything to protect myself with, that baseball bat sat in my garden shed would have been perfect. Reaching under my seat by fingers brushed something cold and metal, confused I carefully pulled it out. A tire iron! Perfect. I made sure I had a solid grip on the long end before opening my door and sliding out, remembering to keep low using my car as a shield for the time being. I only poked the top of my head over the bonnet to get a better look at my surroundings. From here I could see that the automatic doors were trying to close but the red truck blocked my view as to what the obstruction was, my heart fell as I looked into the store. The whole place was trashed, shelves leaned over precariously and the few bits of floor I could see were littered with various items, looks like I wasn’t the only person with this idea. I moved my foot, accidentally kicking a stone, it didn’t make a noise but I still froze, holding my breath to hear even better. After noting changed I reached down and palmed the stone before moving my arm back and throwing it at one of the store windows. It impacted with a loud crack, bounced off, and skittered under the truck. Again, nothing moved. I took a deep breath, looked like it was now or never. Straightening up I moved around the front of my car and began a tediously slow advance on the truck, tire iron held high above my head, ready to strike if needed.

The truck was empty, it’s flat-bed hold only a bulging holdall, not all dissimilar to the one sat in my own car. Quickly pulling on the door handle told me that the occupant had locked the doors after vacating it. A shame really, I contemplated how much better a large 4x4 would be compared to my little Punto. I mean, I could go off road and mow down as many crazies as I wanted, which right now I still didn’t want to. It’s only an illness right? They’ll get better. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts I continued around the front of the truck and gagged. The obstacle blocking the doors was now pretty obvious. Across the threshold lay the body of a human, although judging by the jaundice looking skin I’d say they had gone crazy, however, it was laying in a pool of thick brownish liquid. The source of which seemed to be its head, of which it only had half left. As it was face down I couldn’t make out any features, but judging by the cropped hair and lumberjack style clothing I would say that the body before me had previously belonged to a man. Quite a large man too, it must have taken some strength to over power him. Hesitantly I step over him, tightening my grip on the tire iron and trying my best to avoid the pool of brownish liquid still slowly oozing from the open head. The air-con unit was still buzzing, the stream of cool air pushing the putrid smell of death and blood around the store. Now that I was inside I could survey the shop properly, getting up on tiptoes I peeked behind the counter, no-one there. But all the spirits, money and cigarettes had been taken, typical, there’s an epidemic outbreak and people rob stores for meaningless, health damaging items. Rolling my eyes I turn my attention back to the shelves, many seem untouched - only the front ones seem to be damaged or empty - still full of tinned food, bottled drinks, bags of pasta and jars of sauce, all the stuff I intended on grabbing. My feet moved silently over the linoleum floor as I began creeping towards the back of the store, I placed my feet carefully, avoiding the scattered debris. I wanted to make sure I was alone before starting any scavenging. After ten minutes I decided that I was alone in the store and turned to check the stock room, the door of which had been propped open with a crate of tinned tuna. I peeped around the doorway but couldn’t see much, the lights had been turned off. I was going to move the crate and secure the door when a noise caught my attention.