Better Lucky than Good (Records of the Resistance) (8 page)

"Firing the rifle accurately at these close ranges is the easy part, Mel." Clay said.

"What do you mean? What's the hard part than?" she asked.

"Remember back on the road? Before the farm house? The man who grabbed your leg... You said that you knew him from the grocery store." he answered.

Melanie didn't respond. The gruesome image of he acquaintance, forever burned into her memory.

"Mel, these used to be people. People that you used to know. You might not recognize them from a distance, but through the scope on that rifle you just might find that they used to be your neighbour, or your friend.” Clay explained.

"Is that why it was so easy for you? You didn't know them?" Melanie asked.

"It was easy because I chose to focus on the living. The living right now consists of you and me. For all we know, the infected can't be helped and even if they could, that wouldn't change a thing. Because at that moment, a life was on the line." Clay said.

Mel was considering Clay's words, when she was interrupted by a thumping sound that resonated throughout the gigantic building. The two stood silently for a moment, listening intently to the hollow echo of the pounding.

"By the sounds of that, I'm pretty sure that I have an idea of what happened to the occupants of the cars outside..." Clay said.

He moved to his pack and drew his tomahawk from its loop and slipped his fingers into his brass knuckles.

"Well? Think you can handle that rifle?" he asked.

Melanie nodded while loading a fresh magazine into the weapon. The pair began weaving through the aisles, with Clay in the lead. Mel and Clay followed the noise together, until the two came to a door whose sign read, ‘Employees Only’, written across it.

"Well... We know that there are at least three of them and that none of them know how to use a door knob..." Clay said.

"So, what's the plan?" Melanie asked nervously.

"Kneel down at the edge of that aisle, just like we practiced. I'm going to walk over to that door and open it. Hopefully when I open it, they don't rush out. I'm going to try and occupy the first two that come through, ideally allowing you to drop the third as it tries to get through the doorway." Clay explained.

"And if they rush through the door?" Mel asked.

"The idea is that I'm there to bottleneck the doorway. If you stay to the right side of this aisle and I stay to the left side of the door, you should have an opening. I have to push that door to open it unfortunately, so give me a chance to step back before you put your finger on the trigger. Understand?" Clay instructed.

"Clay, I'm not sure if this is a good..." Mel started, but was interrupted by Clay.

"Mel... This isn't going to be easy. I know that there are a million places that you'd rather be right now, with a million other people, doing a million other things. But you can't be there." Clay said, in an attempt to steel her nerves.

Melanie nodded in resignation and moved to the end of the aisle directly to the right of Clay, just as he had instructed. Kneeling down, she shouldered the rifle, just as Clay had taught her. Clay laid his head lamp on the floor to illuminate the area in front of them, affording Mel the ability to see as she peered through the rifle scope and relaxed her body, allowing the crosshairs to hover just to the right of the door.

Clay approached the door. With his tomahawk at the ready in his right hand, he grasped the door knob with his left, the brass rings sliding harshly across the metal. Clay took a deep breath. He had trouble freeing his mind of the thought that if Melanie couldn't do this, then at some point they would likely both die. If she failed to do this right now, then they would likely both be killed tonight.
 

Clay twisted the knob and threw his shoulder into the door. From her position Melanie saw a pair of hands thrust outward through the open doorway and Clay swinging his tomahawk downward onto something concealed by the veil of darkness.

Clay's attack had struck home and the blade bit deep into the skull of the infected who had reached out to him. Clay tried to jerk the tomahawk out of the man's cranium, but instead drug him out through the door way. The infected fell forward across the entrance of the room, taking Clay's tomahawk with him and having it remain in his brow. Clay pushed the door fully open, attempting to step out of the room as he had planned. However, in stepping back to allow Mel a shot, his heel had caught on the body of the fallen infected, causing him to tumble backwards onto the floor.

A second infected rushed through the door after Clay, who also tripped over the freshly fallen corpse. His trajectory placing him directly on top of Clay.

"CLAY!" Mel shouted in a panic.

A third infected stepped into the doorway in an attempt to also reach Clay. Melanie knew that this was her chance. Watching Clay fall backwards reminded her of his words about maintaining her focus on the living. A brief moment of hesitation was all that had kept her from shooting the man who was now on top of Clay, and she was not about to let that happen again.

As the infected, who had been a woman prior to the outbreak, stepped into the lit doorway, Melanie brought the rifle to bear on her; resting the scope's crosshairs just above her nose. Melanie squeezed her hand into a fist, putting even pressure on the trigger. She didn't hear the rifle go off, but saw the woman drop where she stood in the doorway. Without thinking, Mel stood and began briskly walking down the aisle towards Clay, who was currently struggling with the man on top of him. As she moved, she kept her rifle shouldered and her eye through the sight, just as she had seen Clay do with his shotgun. Mel did her best to hold the crosshairs where she anticipated the man's head would be if Clay managed to push his attacker's upper body upright.

"Push his head up, Clay!" she shouted.

Clay was pushing his palm into the man's upper chest, trying to generate some space between himself and the undead whose breath Clay could feel on his face. The infected had a strong grip on Clay's Shirt. With every grunt and snarl the man let out, Clay would respond to by driving his elbow across his jaw in an attempt to break his grip. After a couple of elbows to the infected man's face, Clay managed to hit him hard enough to separate himself. His attacker's nose collapsed and blood poured down onto Clay's face and chest. Clay pushed the man hard and managed to bring his knee up to his chest, placing his foot into his opponent's stomach. Clay extended his leg, forcing the infected to its feet.
 

Melanie had been waiting and with a quick squeeze, the rifle's action cycled. The bullet hit home and the man fell to his knees, then face down on top of Clay.

"Clay! Clay? Are you alright?" Melanie said as she approached him, still maintaining the crosshairs on the door way should additional undead amble through.

Clay rolled the dead man off of him and sat up.
 

"I'm good" he said, as he wiped his bloodied face with his forearm.

Melanie reached down to him, offering her hand in assistance. Clay looked up at her and laughed to himself.
 

"What's funny about this?" Melanie asked incredulously, while helping Clay to his feet.

"Nothing. I'm just really glad you had it in you!" he said.

Mel punched him in the arm.

"I told you that was a bad idea." she said scoldingly.
 

"In retrospect, I would say that it wasn't a good idea. But I wouldn't say that it was a bad one..." he replied sarcastically.

"So now what?" he asked. "I'm covered in that one's blood. Am I going to end up like one of them?"

"No. It doesn't work like that. It started kinda like a flu outbreak... That's how it spread so quickly and to so many people. You can't catch it from them anymore." Melanie explained.

Clay bent over, reaching down to his tomahawk while releasing a groan indicating how sore he was from his fall.

"Good. I don't want you to shoot me in the head." Clay jested, as he tore his tomahawk free from the dead infected's skull.

"Can we get some sleep now?" Melanie asked.

"Yep... Sleep is definitely what I need right now. Clay replied, stretching slightly in an attempt to relieve his aching back.

Clay had awoken before having opened his eyes. He remained still, attempting to appear as if he was still asleep. Clay had an odd feeling. A feeling as if someone were standing over him. He silently wondered if it could be Melanie, searching through their packs which had been leant against the bed the night before. There was however, another possibility. Which was that there had been a remaining infected whom they had not found last night. Clay felt like a fool. After the beating he took while participating in their previous encounter, he had agreed to end the night's search of the building in favour of getting some rest. He and Mel should have finished clearing the remainder of the building before they had settled in for the day.

It had been a grievous mistake whose consequences may prove to be fatal. With the world in its current state of disarray, there was no room for foolishness. Clay knew that given their environment, making a first mistake would likely end up being a last. Briefly, he contemplated whether or not this was where his story would end, while considering his next move.

Melanie stirred in the bed as she laid next to him. Clay felt her foot brush against his, and was now certain that whoever was standing over him wasn't Mel.

All of his weapons were on the floor at the foot of the bed, draped across his pack. The only exception being his shotgun, which he had leant against the bed directly beside him. Regardless of his armament, Clay knew that he had to make the first move. Reaching for his shotgun would leave him vulnerable, if only for a second and his attacker could capitalize on that moment before he could mount his gun. His best chance was to attack first and attempt to take his opponent to the ground. Hopefully, during the struggle Melanie would wake quickly and in realizing what was transpiring, would come to his aide. He hoped for both his and Melanie's sake, that there was only a single individual now standing over them.

Clay mentally prepared himself as best he could. The muscles in his back burned from his awkward fall last night during their previous fight. Laying as still as he could, Clay filled his lungs with a single deep breath and threw himself over the edge of the bed. After locating a man to his front, Clay lunged towards him, driving his shoulder into the figure's midsection. Wrapping his arms around the man's thighs, he lifted his opponent into the air as he crashed into him. With momentum on his side, Clay managed a few steps before slamming him down on the floor.

"ALIVE! ALIVE! I'M ALIVE!" the infected choked, his breath having given out when he hit the floor.

Clay immediately ceased his attempt to gain the dominant position over his opponent so as to beat him senseless, instead pinning him to the ground.

"Yup. He's definitely alive..." Mel said, from outside of Clay's vision.

Clay looked over his shoulder toward where Melanie's voice had projected from, to see her standing overtop of them with her rifle in hand. She was pointing it directly at the unknown man's head. Clay couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride in Melanie as he stood to his feet.

"How the hell did you get in here?" he asked, looking down at his would be attacker.

The man's hands were positioned in front of his face as if he were about to defend himself from an incoming blow.
 

"I've been here for weeks! I work here!" he said in a panic stricken voice. "... Or... Formerly worked here."

Clay looked over to Melanie and gave her a slight wave of his hand. His intention was obvious to her and she lowered her rifle. The man was terrified enough and there was no need to induce any further fear.
 

Clay released an audible sigh and began to rub his forehead.

"What's your name?" he asked, extending his arm down to the man.

"Kevin." he replied, while allowing Clay to assist him in getting to his feet.

"Kevin, I'm Clay. She's Melanie." Clay said, while nodding in Mel's direction as he spoke.

Kevin stunk. It was clear to Clay based on that olfactory indicator alone, that he was likely telling the truth. His clothes were filthy, obviously having not been changed since the outbreak. What was once a white collared short sleeved shirt, had been stained beige with sweat and filth. At some point he likely wore a tie and name tag, but were both long gone now.
 

"By the look of you, I'd guess that you've been here a while..." Clay said after making his mental observations.

"Ever since my co-workers turned..." Kevin replied tiredly.

"I thought they had you two last night, for sure. Nice shooting Melanie." he added.

"You were watching us? From where?" Melanie asked.

"From the security office. There are cameras all over the building. I would have come out to say hello, but my ex-coworkers had become intent on effecting my demise." he answered.

"Security cameras? This place have a generator or something?" Clay interjected.

"Generator? No... Wait... You guys don't know, do you?"
 
asked Kevin, coyly.