Part Twenty Three

Kevin watched as Eula and Lilly drove off. He ducked down to hide from the zeds who had seen him, but as the tractor took off, with the engine blaring and horn blowing, every zed within hearing distance would be giving chase to that.

He hid for a few minutes until the sounds of zed groans of interest dissipated. When it felt safe, he quickly walked along the roof to the second story windows, gave them a reasonable tap to see if anything showed up inside.

Nothing came. Now came the part that he hated. Hammer in hand, he took a series of looks around the place, although he wasn’t sure if he was looking for zombies who might hear the breaking glass, which he was certain they would, or police who might arrest him.

It felt odd worrying about being caught by law enforcement, but he couldn’t help himself.

He swung at the window, it shattered loudly enough to give him a surprise. He stood back quickly to avoid the glass hitting him. As soon as it was quiet, he used the spear to clear the jagged edges as best as he could, then entered the library.

He had the spear pointing in front of him, again giving him the feeling of being mildly stupid and caveman like, yet it made complete sense. He crouched down a little then began the process of walking the library calling out at talking voice, “Hey zombie, if you ant dinner, here I am.”

The only response he was getting was the odd zombie on the outside banging against the glass wall.

That made him nervous.

When he had checked the entire library, he returned upstairs to hide from prying zombie eyes and pulled out his list of books.

The list was long, suggestions had been given by everyone, all of them on the list were practical. Lord of the Rings was on the ignore list.

The deal of being in the library was he had one hour. This gave him time to search, and time for Eula and Lilly to do the rounds of clearing the zombies from the street and picking up those who came out.

One hour is not much time, he did not waste a minute of it.

Edible weeds. Found, put into the backpack.

Dentistry. Not much, only one that might be worth reading. Bagged it.

Trapping. Outback survival. Bagged it.

Hunting. The best he found was a book about how humans and dogs out competed Neanderthals. He could not believe this was the best book on hunting here. Bagged it. He reminded himself that a return trip to the hunting shop was needed.

First aid in the bush. Found tow, bagged two.

He looked at his timer. Ten minutes left.

“Crap. This is taking longer than expected.” He didn’t know why he said that out loud.

Bear Grylls. He found a lot of children’s books. But he found survival manuals. “Thanks Bear. I wonder if he is alive?”

Time was up.

He went to the next book type on the list. But he decided to stick to the schedule instead. He returned to the broken window, got out and sat down on the roof to wait for their return.

The bag of books was on his back, spear on his lap, and nothing to do but observe.

He looked at the zeds as they swayed and twisted their way around. If he tried hard, he could pretend they were alive people.

He was beginning to think about how it was only six days since Amanda had died. Or had she? They took her away, but she was still a zombie. Where did they take her?

Was she one of the zombies in the stadiums?

He closed his eyes, quietly said, “Shit, do not think about that.”

It was too late.

Five days since running away from Melbourne with Eula. Who was now late.

He looked at his watch, she was ten minutes late. Ten minutes of extra time in a zombie infested town was one day’s worth of real time.

“Where are you?”

He thought, “What happened to that rule of no splitting up?”

He went back to observing the zombies.

Slow moving. Their heads wobbled side to side but never up. They were scanning the horizon all the time. He noticed how it was difficult to step up a curb, and that they stumbled down them as well.

Stairs were a problem, they didn’t stop the zed going up the stairs, but it was series of random leg lifting and accidently making it up one stair. He liked knowing that stairs were a reasonable barrier for them.

Twenty minutes late.

He was feeling lucky that it was only October.

Spring weather, cooler breezes, the sun was not a beast yet. That would not last much longer.

Summer, heat, fire season without fire fighters. It was only forty odd days to fire season. Suddenly the idea of the most feared thing as being zombies seemed unreasonable.

He also thought that creating fires would work wonders on reducing the zombie population in the region. As well as other survivors.

Thirty minutes.

Where are they?

He was looking across the road to the supermarket. It was closed up. It had not been looted at all. He tried to get a decent look in through the front windows and could see the shelves were low in stock.

Not looted, but they must have done great business in the final days of trade. Did the virus hit so hard and fast that people didn’t have enough time to loot things?

Forty minutes.


He had counted twelve zombies. Eula had done a great job attracting them away. The zeds would be following their horn. A horn he could not hear. How far does a tractor horn travel?

Where are they?

He had his spear in his hand. A bag of good, practical library books. How about trolleys filled with food to add to the loot?

But more importantly, he did not want to wait on a roof with nothing to do but think and worry.

Fifty minutes.

Something was wrong. Maybe the supermarket is a bad idea given there is no escape plan. But, with a car, that changes. But having no idea how to hotwire a car is a problem. Car yard?

He got up, stuck his head out as far as he could to get a view up and down the road. He looked for as long as he could, making sure to be quiet and move slowly in the process.

Up the road, the opposite direction to where Eula and Lilly had gone, no car yards.

Down the road, and bingo. Toyota car sales. New and used cars for sale.

He thought, “You little beauty.”

He stood back from the overhang, sat down again and whispered to himself, “This is a terribly stupid idea. If I do this, I will probably die. Do not do this.”

He watched the timer click over to one hour.

He looked up and down the road, fifteen zombies in the immediate area randomly moving around. The road had more of them between him and the car yard.

He took a deep breath to control the urge to do something stupid. Then he leaned over the overhang, checked underneath for zeds, nothing near enough to worry about, then he dropped himself to the ground as quietly as he could.

With spear in one hand and the hammer in the other, it was time to run.

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