At the back of this department, a door led upwards to the first floor of a house which the shop owner used as storage.
“Um, sir… I think you better have a plan pretty quick,” Aaron began, turning to the adults gathered at the key cutting counter. “Everyone outside is getting quite, well, fruity.”
The growls outside had now become aggressive. The shutters stood hidden behind tough, metal holding units screwed to the walls. They offered a great deal of protection from the masses outside, but eight days had only served to anger and frustrate the mass of infected attempting to get in. The units could keep everyone at bay for a short time if the shutters gave way, at least until everyone escaped into the store room upstairs. The entrance door, although crafted from safety glass, could allow them to flood through in an instant if penetrated.
Everyone had moved downstairs. The staff room upstairs had limited space, with the shop floor offering the only viable option for congregation. Johnny, Lacey, Michael, Lawro, or Peter Lawrenson to be precise, sat alongside Jacob Jackson. Aaron, ever the figure of defiance amongst the staff at Berrington Heights Secondary School and Sports Academy, took point at the front.
“Yes, thanks Aaron, now can you get to the back, please?”
Bucky watched as Aaron returned, whispering something under his breath. Aaron studied in year nine, as did Lacey. Lawro studied in his last year of sixth form. Bucky guessed he must have been eighteen or thereabouts. The older kids were part of the cricket club and had been drafted along to assist in this match. Michael and Johnny both belonged in year eight with Bucky, as did the rest of the team that had been on the minibus.
The silence amongst them was something new to Bucky. He’d never recalled a time when students who sat doing nothing refrained from speaking with one another. Eight days had passed and he’d pretty much said all he needed to say to his peers. Apart from watching TV and relaying information to everyone else, there was nothing now worth talking about. Yet, here they were, listening to the muffled talking of two teachers and two shop workers. Something popped into Bucky’s mind, a question he had meant to ask but never had the courage to.
Bucky turned to Johnny. “What happened to the rest of them?” Bucky had no recollection of the journey back from the school they had played the game against.
“Shut up,” replied Lawro, not even lifting his head from between his knees. “Just shut up.”
“Stuck in the overturned minibus. You were lucky Johnny could pull you out or you’d have ended up like them. Meals on wheels,” Aaron quipped. “Mr Finch escaped but had his guts torn out by some wacko.”
This time Lawro lifted his head, and through a centre parting of hair that covered his eyes, glared at Aaron. “Are you really as dumb as you look? I said shut up talking about it.”
Aaron smirked. “Hey, why don’t you shut up? You think I sweat you just because you’re in the sixth form? I’ll talk about whatever I want, whenever I want. I’ll even talk about the time I shagged your mother.”
Lawro launched across to Aaron, knocking Lacey into Bucky. Bucky found himself staring at the ceiling as a fight ensued. By the time he’d righted himself to a seating position, Mr Peterson and Miss Greene had intervened.
“I’ll kill you, you little prick!” Lawro snarled. “I’ll kill you!”
“That is enough!” Peterson ordered, moving Aaron out of harm’s way.
“What are you thinking!” Miss Greene snapped. “We are trying to find a way out of this and you two are fighting with each other? Both of you, get a grip. Do you know what is at stake here?”
Bucky watched as Lawro rolled his left arm, adjusting the sleeve to his blood spattered cricket jumper.
“There is no way out of this,” Lawro began, his voice and demeanour now somewhat relaxed. “Just look at the news. Most of the population has turned into blood-lusting freaks and we are stuck in here waiting for the shutters to give way. We’re waiting to be killed.”
Michael appeared from the room upstairs. As the days had passed, he had become ill. The flu symptoms had really knocked him for six, but today his skin had faded to that of a pale bed sheet. The illness he’d accrued since entering the shop had become worse as the days wore on. Bucky wondered if the cut to his neck had become infected, but couldn’t see due to the bandage that covered the injured area.
“Everyone! It’s just been on the news!” he stated in an excitable manner. “A football club has been secured as a safe zone.”
“What football club?” Mr Peterson enquired.
“Corby Town.”
Lawro sniggered. “Jeez. Corby Town. You know how far away that is from here?”
Michael nodded. “Yeah, I do. And you know what? I’m going.”
“Hey, hey just settle a moment,” Miss Greene replied, holding her palms out to slow him down.
Michael turned to her. “What? You think you can stop me?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“I don’t care what you said. We’ve been holed up in this shop thanks to Stewart and Craig who took us in and saved us, but I can’t stay here. We’re just waiting to die. We’re like lobster in a tank at one of those posh restaurants. Someone is going to burst through those windows at some point, look at me and say, ‘I want him.’”
“Exactly what I said,” Lawro quipped.
“I’d much rather die outside trying to find somewhere safe than wait here and die for nothing,” Michael added.
“Right, now listen,” Peterson began. His authoritative voice came out. Bucky knew he was attempting to restore order. “We can’t just run outside and hope we get through the people out there. We’re going to need to plan it and we’re going to need everyone on the same team, working for each other.” He turned to Lawro. “Can you be
