“Look at them,” Bucky said, gesturing to the masses below. He began counting. “One, two, three…” All of them stood motionless, still peering to the sky where the rocket had exploded. “Six, seven, eight…” A woman down there cocked her head to the side. She jolted as though arousing from an absence seizure. Around her, the rest of the infected did the same. They twitched and trembled before regaining some kind of consciousness. “Ten,” Bucky whispered. In the street below, the crazies began to shuffle once more.
“What was that?” Mr Peterson asked.
“Ten,” Bucky replied. “About ten seconds from when the last light fades to when they return to normal.”
“That’s not much of a gap,” Miss Greene stated.
“It’s long enough for me to get in the van,” Mr Peterson replied. “Okay, here’s the plan. We lower the ladder down. Lawro, light the rockets. Craig, hold the rockets in place until they take off.” He turned to Miss Greene. “Tara, I want you and Bucky to hold the ladder in place. I’m going to need an escape plan if anything cocks up. Johnny, you watch everyone below and yell if someone heads towards me. Got it?”
“Yeah,” Johnny replied.
“I’ll bring the van around as close to the shop as I can get it.”Stewart wandered across, bearing the keys to the van. Peterson nodded, taking hold of them. “Get the ladder.”
Lawro assisted Craig with the ladder. Bucky released the catch which gave it an extra few feet. All three hung out of the window, manoeuvring the steps until they stood secure on the tarmac. The crazies paid no attention to the metal appendage that crashed into them from above.
“I think that’s as close as we can get.”
Peterson flashed the key. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
* * *
A rocket ignited from the sill.
“Go! Go! Go!” Lawro screamed. Peterson descended the ladder as the firework whooshed from Craig’s hand. “Another! Quick!”
The first exploded into the sky as Peterson hit the ground. For a second he closed his eyes, expecting to be engulfed by the mass of bodies he fell into. Nothing. Another rocket sailed into the air. Peterson dashed through the crowds, pushing stinking, rotten bodies from his path. No one retaliated. Another explosion of green and white light illuminated the area. Peterson found the key to the transit and opened the door, slamming it closed behind him. Another explosion rocked the street as the key entered the ignition and brought the vehicle to life. The roaring engine did nothing to deter those outside who stood there watching the fireworks. Peterson spun the wheel and set the van in motion, pushing people from his path with the bumper and bonnet. He expected it to be easy, mowing down people with minimal effort, but the overworked engine struggled to push through the crowd.
“Come on,” he grimaced, driving an arc that would align the passenger side door perfectly with the shop front. He bounded up and down, no doubt over a body that he’d knocked down.
The van came to a standstill beside the shop. Peterson peered up through the windscreen to see Craig releasing more fireworks. The shutters began to rise. Miss Greene and the students dashed to the passenger door and opened it. “They’re staying,” she said as she bundled into the vehicle.
“What?” Peterson asked, peering into the back as the remaining students piled in.
“They’re staying. Craig and Stewart. Staying with their home, they said.”
“Shit.” Peterson counted over the students. Aaron, Lawro, Bucky, Johnny, Lacey… “Where’s Michael?”
Stewart shrieked from the doorway as Michael grabbed him from behind. In an instant, Michael had torn away the weak flesh from Stewart’s throat exposing ligaments and muscle tissue. Stewart fitted, his body quivering as Michael chomped down some more, removing the flesh from his cheek. Lacey screamed as she entered the vehicle.
“Close the door!” Peterson yelled.
She did so as he pulled away, mowing through a mass of people all wailing and reaching out with outstretched arms, attempting to get inside the vehicle. The engine revved and coughed, working hard to push through the resistance. Peterson hammered the accelerator to the floor and parted the crowd.
“We’re out!” he said, hitting the almost clear road ahead. A few crazies would be a minor hindrance, nothing more. “We’re out.”
“Thank God for that,” Miss Greene sighed.
Peterson flashed a quick glance to her across his shoulder. “Let’s hope the road is clear.”
* * *
Bucky rocked with the motion of the travelling van, swaying from left to right as the road rushed past beneath them. He wasn’t curious to look out of the windscreen like the others, who all stretched upward every so often to peer through from the back. In the rush to the van, they’d forgotten their cricket bats and only a few minor tools such as hammers and saws had been left in the van by its previous owner. They’d been too eager to jump inside the vehicle and Bucky’s plan had gone awry. No one remembered to bring the fireworks that had been set out in the store room. No one had even attempted to fill the empty milk bottles with white spirit to make a Molotov. They hadn’t even remembered their own gear. Aside from the crap inside the van, they were as good as unarmed.
Lacey had said next to nothing since jumping in the passenger seat. Bucky guessed the trauma of seeing a school friend turn crazy and rip the flesh from an old man with his teeth would be the cause of it.
The journey had been smooth so far. Mr Peterson had slowed down once or twice, avoiding obstacles and crazies, but even these hurdles had not stopped them. The football club loomed closer with every shift of the gear stick and with it came the promise of safety.
“You think Michael turned from that injury he had?” Johnny asked, to no one in particular.
“That
