“You all okay?” I asked.
All three nodded, and I was happy to see that was the case. They were all hungry, thirsty, and cold, but uninjured, and that was such a relief. I’d been going mad with worry back at the lodge when I didn’t get any answer from them, so seeing them now up close and being assured they were all okay was like a vent for the pressure of my tension. I dropped the backpack off my shoulders, then passed my rifle to Nate.
“There’s more ammo for the rifle, Glocks, and shotties in the bag, and a bottle of water. I’ve only got the one, so the three of you will have to share it to wet your whistles.”
Nate’s grin was wide as he unzipped the backpack, and as he did so, I was certain he murmured something like, “That’s my girl,” but I can’t be sure. The three of them shared the bottle of water and the gasps of relief were nigh on orgasmic as they washed their dry mouths clean.
“So, this is weird, huh? This ‘every zombie hates Lockey,’ thing seems to be a regular occurrence lately.”
Nate nodded. “Every time your voice came over the radio earlier, it was like a shock in their collective arse. They’d crowd the radio, despite just standing there before that, all idle.”
Well, that puckered my butt. I really don’t like this, so you can see why I said at the beginning that this feels weirdly personal. However, in our current situation, it was an advantage. My initial plan involved bouncing all Tigger style across the various elevations to get to the truck with the keys, then going all Grand Theft Auto on them with that big bastard as I turned it, letting my three friends jump down on to the bed of the truck, get Nate to the pickup, then we all clear out.
Granted, that plan would have been far more cinematic when they inevitably make the movie of my outstanding heroism, but there was now a much simpler and safer plan, where the only risk would be to me, and not to my friends, or to the truck tyres as I crushed undead bones beneath them. The guys had worked so hard during the day acquiring all these valuable materials; losing them to a flat because a bony spike fucked the tyre would be a royal shitter.
Hearing how the undead seemed solely intent on devouring me – as much as that terrifies me beyond my ability to convey - I forged an entirely new plan.
“Well, let’s use this to our gain then. I’ll draw them off if they want me so bad, then you three get down into the empty space, get in the truck and the pickup when you have a chance, and get ready to move.”
Nate looked at me aghast. “You’ll do what?”
“I’m the only one that can, Nate,” I shrugged. “These fuckers, for whatever reason, have decided to make me zombie enemy number one. There’s plenty of space for me to run in this yard, so I’ll draw them off in a mass, while you three blast any rear stragglers that are in your way and get the vehicles out of here. You can also pick up that rifle you tried to throw away,” I added with a wink. “I’ll leave everything with you, and just use my sidearm to plink a few of them to get their attention. If they react as they have been doing, they’ll just come for me. We only need to thin the herd to give you three a chance to safely drop down, retrieve your rifle and radio, get in the vehicles, then get the hell out of here. If it doesn’t work, I can always go up again and we’ll make a Plan B. We’ve got more ammo and you’re rifled up again, so we could probably take them all over time. I’d rather we didn’t burn through all the ammo though, or risk jams from overheating or dirty weapons.”
“And how do you get out?”
“Same way I got in. I can lead them all the way to the back of the yard to give you time.” I tapped the NVG’s now in Nate’s hand. “You’ll have to alter them to fit your Jupiter-sized bonce again, but now you can shoot freely, you’re better with them. I’ll take my little flashlight to see where I’m stepping where the moonlight doesn’t reach, plus my Glock for protection, and I’ll be faster and lighter than I have been.”
“I don’t like this, Erin,” said Nate.
“Hey, I got here to save your grumpy ass, didn’t I, Eeyore?”
He snorted. I was going to keep hitting him with Winnie the Pooh references for a good while yet. Ever since I busted him on his Kadie story to us all when his profound ending wisdom was quoted from Pooh Bear, I’ve been milking that one for all it’s worth. And I am not yet done.
I could see his internal war raging, but I knew he was going to agree, by the fact he was already opening the straps on the NVG’s to fit his giant head.
“One condition,” he said eventually. “You take your radio, and you let us know you’re safe and clear. We’re not driving all the way back without knowing you got out safely.”
“Deal,” I said, taking the proffered handset from him and clipping it to my waist. “You guys just head back, put the kettle on, and I’ll follow you back in my Twatmobile.”
“Your what?”
“Never mind,” I said with a dismissive wave. “Let’s do this, shall we? There’s a little guy waiting for his dad back home.”
Mark beamed at that as he refilled his cartridge holder and pockets from the ammo bag.
Once we were all set, I fist bumped my three homies before moving back along the top of the materials aisle, trying to ignore the hungry eyes
