Part 2

Sorry it's taken a while guys...

Sorry that it's been a while...

We couldn’t have got in safely without Zack and his crazy gadget. He called it his EMP-ing bitch, and he’d bought it off eBay about a year ago. Why he would have taken it into a chemistry exam, I didn’t know, but he said that it could neutralise alarms.

It was shaped just like a pen, but with a pair of buttons on the side, where it thickened. It was all finished off in what looked like the same stuff you’d find on a blackboard. It exuded a sort of sinister aura, with its black finish, gleaming silver buttons and slight hum. It looked dangerous, but Zack had assured us that it wasn’t.

“Let me at her then, ladies,” proclaimed Zack, and we all moved apart to let him have a look at the door. Quite a way apart, come to think of it. If something went wrong, nobody wanted to be anywhere near.

Zack moved up to the back door of the Hunter’s Lair, the EMP thing clasped in his right hand. Everybody was holding their breath; their future could hinge on the workmanship of Zack’s wild gadget.

Zack moved towards the door slowly, and even more slowly, pressed the side of his head up against the door so he could look into the gap between the door and the frame. He moved his head around until, about five centimetres below the top of the frame, he stopped.

Without taking his eyes off the area, he called, “Somebody get over here and give us a hand.”

Heads turned around the group, everybody looking at somebody else. I sighed in resignation and moved up to the door.

“When I say go,” said Zack, still looking at the area, “I want you to open the door like you normally would. Don’t go too fast, or the EMP won’t be any good, and don’t go too slow, or the alarm might overcome the effects. The door’s already unlocked; I picked it a minute ago.”

I had no clue what Zack was going on about, or how he’d picked it, but I braced my hand on the cold steel handle anyway and held my breath, waiting for the go. Zack had pointed the end of his EMP pen at the area he had been staring at, and had his thumb resting on the top button. Slowly, he applied more pressure onto the button until it was fully depressed. Then he waited, and slowly depressed the second button.

“Go!” yelled Zack, and I opened the door, eyes screwed shut in case anything did happen. Like it would have helped anyway.

But nothing did happen. Not a noise, apart from the click of the lock on the door and the collective release of breath by around twenty other people. The door slid open smoothly on its hinges like any other door would.

The back room was a shambolic affair, with shell casings spread all over the floor, bullet crimps on most tables, and a lathe in the corner. Several beer cans lay in a corner, and a rifle was set out on the cleaning rest, barrel on the table beside it. There was a lingering smell of cordite around the room, mixed in with the stench of full-strength whiskey.

However, there was no time to check out anything else, because Zack was talking again.

“The batteries on this thing could be running out, so I want you to close the door”, he said in a rush. I obediently closed the door, because batteries running out are never good. There was a slight beep from the alarm as Zack stopped doing what he’d been doing for the past couple of minutes.

He hadn’t stopped talking, however. “Go into the main office and try to find something that turns off the alarm. Hurry, man.”

I ran past the lathe, nearly slipping on a small shell cartridge, and into the office. It was tiny and cramped, but it wasn’t hard to notice the single small remote with an “ARMAGUARD” keyring attached to it. I swooped it up and ran back to the door.

“Zack, man, you still there?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, still here. You got the key?”

“Hang on, I’ll just disarm the thing.”

I fumbled around with the remote, and when I’d got hold of it, pointed it up at where the alarm was, and pressed the small button on the front.

The alarm responded with a satisfying beep, and I tentatively opened the door. Again, nothing happened, and we all entered the store.

The back room was a fair size, and we all fit in fairly comfortably. Fitz and Dave were examining the gun on the cleaning rest, and Marie had gone into the office to check for power on the computer. It seemed that there was still power, as the sound of the Vista start up tune could be heard above the chatter.

Typically, Jacob got up onto the table with the lathe on, and shouted for us all to shut the hell up. Trust Jacob, not to worry about if any of them hear us.

“Look guys,” he said. “We’ve made it this far on our skill. I think it’s time we got ourselves in a nice situation here.

“It’s safe here, and secure. There’s a bloody big latch on the back door that the previous owners neglected to use, an even bigger one on the front door, and solid bars on the windows.” He rattled one of them for emphasis.

“We’re only a couple of minutes walk from the Jarrandup shops, so we can get pretty easy food, and we’ve got the largest store for high-grade weapons here for at least fifty kays.” Jacob paused for effect, and looked back up, his head not held as high as usual. For all his flaws, he’s one hell of an actor.

“I hate to have to do this, but I think we have to have a leader, a figure of trust and leadership around here, a Captain. Somebody’s gotta hold the centre down. Like I said, I don’t want to have to do this, but I’m putting my name forward. If anybody else wants to stand up for this, please do. For all I know, I might end up a crap leader, but better something than nothing. A whole lot of you guys would probably be heaps better than me at this, but somebody’s gotta do something.”

Jacob raised his head again, and sounding more confident, he continued. “In the cadets, I was taught that without authority, you’re just like a ramble. A riot with guns. My captain’s probably dead now, but I remember his words. So let’s ask. Anybody else wanting to try for leader? I won’t stop you.”

The room was silent, and predictably, nobody raised their hands. I didn’t blame them. Jacob was tall, handsome, clean cut and had an outstanding record at Army Cadets. Plus, I bet his speech helped his case a bit. As much as I wanted to raise my hand, I knew it would be pointless. Nobody was going to vote for me against Jacob, pride of the Cadets.

Jacob waited a good couple of minutes, before starting his talking again. “I guess that’s it then. I can’t say for sure that you’ve spoken well, but mark my words, I won’t let you down.

“While you’re still listening, I think we need some more roles. Fitz is gonna be my 2^nd, my Lieutenant. When I’m out, he’s gonna take my place. I want to ask you to respect him like you would me when I’m out. Zack.”

Zack raised his head in surprise, and we all looked at him, then back at Jacob as he started talking again. “You’re the smart guy here; you know mechanics and stuff, yeah?” Zack nodded. “You’re gonna be Chief Engineer here. If we find mechanical stuff, it’s all yours. Also, this place is a shithole, and I bet half of the machinery here wouldn’t work for God. Can you take a look at it all for us?” Zack nodded again, and Jacob moved on.

“Another thing we’re gonna be needing is soldiers. I’ve been in Cadets for years now, and so I’ve got fair experience with guns, so I’ll fight too. However, I don’t think it would be wise for me to be overall leader and leader of the soldiers; the Sergeant. Whoever’s had shooting experience, please hold up fingers comparative to the years you’ve been shooting.”

I held up two fingers. I shot down at the range a few kays up from where we lived and I’d gotten fairly good. I’d even won Juniors a few times. However, there was no way I was going to get chosen as leader of the soldiers, or Sergeant, as Jacob had put it.

Sure enough, “Mitch, you’ve had most experience here, with five years, so you’re our new Sergeant. If everybody with over a year of shooting experience can go with Mitch later and get a rifle, you’re gonna be a soldier.”

That pissed me right off. Mitch was almost a carbon copy of Jacob, and I knew for a fact that he had only fired a few times between his first shoot five years ago and now. I was sure that several of us were better shots than him. Although, it does help being in Jacob’s good books.

“One more role to go. Lisa, you’re gonna be our medic. Your parents are nurses, aren’t they?” A nod gave him the answer. “Right, if you’re okay with that, I’d like you to take care of our injured.”

“Fine by me,” replied Lisa with a smile on her face.

“Okay, I’m just going to do a head count, and then we can all go and do what we gotta do. Afterwards, everybody who’s not got a specialised role, wait around here and we’ll find you something to do.”

Jacob done a quick head count (there were 24 of us), and then let us go.

Shithead. I could see what he’d done. He’d constructed a fully military regime; make it look like he knew what he was doing. This was screwed right up. He’d set himself up nicely at the top, and surrounded himself by all his mates. Plus, if anybody tried to stand up to him, he could kick them right out and say it was a necessity. Shithead.

I had no way out of this. It was a situation I didn’t want to be in, stuck under the command of a lunatic doing a role he decided. I didn’t want to be a soldier; I just wanted to be a survivor. For now, though, I had to go with the flow. After a quick chat with Zack, we went off to do our separate roles.

Zack loved his role. Chief Engineer. It even sounded cool, so no wonder. He was rambling about it, saying he’d talk to Jacob about letting me share his title. He wouldn’t ever do that. Zack was my best mate, but he’d never share such a glorious title. Nobody would. He assured me that it’d all work out as he walked over to Jacob to pick his workers. That’s what he and Lisa were doing; picking the people they wanted to work with. Christ.

I headed out to the front of the store and checked it out. It looked exactly the same as last time I’d been here. The green carpet was stained with oil in some places and burnt in others. However, the store was really a beautiful place. The stained wood supports glistened from the varnish, as did the front of the counter, which stretched the width of the store. Behind the counter were all the guns, lined up in a rack. There was every kind, bolt-action, lever-action, shotguns, .22s, the lot, except pistols, which were out the back. There was a rack of fishing rods along the side of the store, and a large, square distressed pine table in the middle. Next to the table was a smaller glass cabinet which housed the various knives they had in stock. It was the kind of place that kids loved to come and look at, even though they’d never buy anything. I’d bought my own rifle from here, but that was kept at the club.

All the soldiers were assembled around the table in the middle. I headed over and found myself next to Claus again. The blonde boy was slouched out on his seat, isolated from the rest as he knew nobody. I came over and sat down next to him. He’d lost the scraper in the fight at the school, and there was a hell of a lot of blood on his work shirt. Strangely, I felt more at home with him than I did with any of the guys from my school that had been selected as soldiers.

I was about to ask him his opinion on Jacob when Mitch jumped up into the table and began to talk. There was an eerie sense of déjà vu.

“Alright boys, so you’re my men? There’s twelve of you, so we better make us all count. I’m your Sergeant, so I expect you all to pay me some respect. Ryan, you’re my Corporal. Same goes for Ryan, respect.”

Mitch jumped down from the table and headed over to the counter, leaping up on that as well, and continuing his speech. “Behind me are a heap of rifles. You’re all gonna choose one, and make sure you choose well. If you’re a good shot, pick one with a nice scope. I want at least two snipers, and two shotgunners, but no more than three of each. Off you go.”

Mitch jumped down again and headed straight for the biggest gun he could find, a massive .375 lever-action. There was a mad rush for everybody to get the gun they wanted. Ryan smashed the cupboard containing the pricey shotguns and picked a flashy O/U, Benelli by the looks of it.

I picked a synthetic-stock .243 bolt-action, like the one I have at the club. I tested the action, and found it to be smooth as. It reminded me heavily of my old one, so I stuck with my choice. I also noticed that it had no scope, so after a quick root through the scope box, I grabbed hold of the biggest one I could find, a wide field-of-view hunting scope. If possible, I wanted to be as far away as I could get from those things.

We all regrouped over at the table, and sure enough, Mitch was back up onto the tabletop, rifle in hand.

“Now that’s over and done with, we can get down to more serious stuff. I’m dividing us up into two teams; the outside team and the inside team. I’ll lead the inside team, coz my gun is more suited to it, and Ryan’s leading the outside team. We’re dividing it evenly though, one sniper in each team, and one shotgunner. Looks to me that Ollie and Dave are gonna be our snipers, so...

Please inside. If he sticks me on the outside team, my plan will have totally backfired. I’m not a coward, I’m a survivor. I don’t wanna get stuck outside with a sniper scope.

“I want Dave with me. Ollie, you’re our outside sniper.”

Fuck. That’s messed up, man. Messed right up. This bullshit shouldn’t be happening in the first place.

“The rest, Ryan can pick who he wants for the outside team. I’ll take the remainder for in here. After that, we’ll start makin’ plans.”

Mitch stepped down, leant against a post and checked out his rifle. It looked like a brick, and was probably about as heavy. Idiot.

Thankfully, a God exists, as Ryan had chosen Claus for his team. It would be an unliveable hell stuck outside with the bunch of jerks Ryan had chosen. We sat down at the bench as, for the first time this day, Mitch took a seat at a bench.

“Plans. There’s no point waiting around, as the longer we wait, the more zombies there’ll be.”

Zombies. That’s the first time somebody had used that word. It was only ever going to be a matter of time, but it still hit home. Zombies. When I thought of zombies, I thought movies. I thought video games. Not once did I associate it with real life. It was scary.

“We need food desperately. Apart from the bit in the fridge, there’s none. We gotta go out today, guys.

Jesus Christ. I knew he was gonna jump into it, but I didn’t think that long. Although...it does make a bit of sense. Maybe he’s smarter than he looks.

“Ryan, your boys are gonna go out straight from the off, make a beeline for Jarrandup. The faster we get in, the faster we get out. If you meet anybody in there, use your initiative. If they look useful, bring them back. If they don’t leave ‘em. Now, I don’t want you lot dying on me, so be careful. And remember, fellas, we don’t know if you just die when they bite you, or you become one of them. Don’t try and find out.”

With that, Mitch got up and walked out the back, summoning the inside team with a wave of his hand.

Ryan also got up, but he walked the other way, towards the knife cabinet. He examined the glass, and then, without word or warning, raised his gun and shattered the top glass with the butt of his gun.

I flinched, and expected far, far worse, but luckily, no alarm went off. Still, the sound of shattering glass was deafening, and if there were any of those things around, they would have heard it for sure. I was incredibly tempted to rage there and then at Ryan for his idiocy, but there was no way I was going to make my life more difficult.

“Grab one,” said Ryan, the tinkle of glass still audible. “If you ever run out of ammo, you’re gonna want to have one of these on you. Take good ones, but save some for the guys out back. Off you go.”

Ryan instantly went for a large, saw-toothed machete, as I expected he would. Claus grabbed the other machete, so I had to settle for a seven-inch hunting knife. I attached the sheath onto my belt, for the second time today wishing that I’d worn a smaller buckle. The large DG buckle got in the way, digging into my skin. However, I could change it for an ammo belt soon, there was some hanging up over near the fishing gear.

I took the opportunity to talk to Claus for a bit. We went over to a post and leant on it whilst the other soldiers were sorting out their knives.

Claus started off before I could begin to talk. “What’s this Jacob bloke like, Ollie? I don’t know shit all about these kids, who to trust, who not to trust, all of that. Fill me in a bit, man.”

“I honestly don’t know,” I began. “He’s a bit of a jerk at school, you know? Drives around with overloud music on, too fast, hangs around street corners, you know the type. But here, I don’t know. He’s got a great record in Army cadets from what I hear, and on the surface he looks like the type who actually could pull this off.

“Personally, though, I don’t trust him. He just acts too much like an idiot, and we can’t trust him to think rationally, if at all.”

“What about these other guys, Mitch and Ryan?” Claus asked. “What are they like?”

“Mitch I’m also unsure about. He’s either gonna pull this off, or he’s gonna crash and burn. At school he’s just like Jacob, but some of the stuff here leads me to think that he could do this alright, you know?”

“And Ryan?”

“He’s a total cock. Look at the way he acts in a situation like this, grabbing the biggest shit he can find, establishing himself as a dictator-type guy. I was seriously hoping to stay away from him, but now that I’m under his command, I wonder if it’ll be better off asking for a swap out. He’s not going to be able to do anything without-”

“Get back over here, you two!”

Ryan was shouting us over to the table. He’d unclasped his belt and slung it over his shoulder so that it draped across his body diagonally. The huge machete swung by his left hip, the handle glinting where the blackened coating was rubbing off.

We walked over to the table and sat down, but nearly fell back off our seats as Ryan pulled out a map of Jarrandup he’d seemingly conjured from nowhere and slammed in into the table with his machete. Ryan sniggered, and turned back to the map.

“We’re here right now,” Ryan explained, pointing to a small square across from the main entrance to Jarrandup shops. “Likely is that the shops are gonna be crawling with the things, unless people have already cleared things up. I’m going to be hoping that they have, coz it’ll make our jobs hell easier.”

Ryan extracted the knife and turned the map over, revealing a floor plan of the shopping mall.

“Alright. The closest food store is here, just down from the main entrance. We’re going to head to there; chances are we’ll encounter fewer zombies by not straying too far into the store. We’re gonna need a couple of trolleys to carry the food about in, so Liam; Dillon, you guys grab some trolleys as soon as we see them. Also, if we get hit, we’re going to need a fast escape plan, so grab some hessian sacks from out back before we head out. Load the food into there, and if we need to run, just grab the sacks out and leg it.”

Not bad, Ryan.

“We’re going to travel in a formation. Ollie, me an’ you are gonna stick together. I’ve got a shottie, so if you get caught up, I’ll cover you. Reese and you, kid, err...Claus. You two stick with Liam an’ Dillon so you can cover them when they’ve got their trolleys. The time now is half eleven. We leave at twelve.”

Ryan got up and walked off, the other three following him out to the back, me and Claus a little behind. I moved to sit on the counter, but jumped back up when the sound of Zack’s “Yeah, bitch!”, could be heard.

I came out the back to see Zack standing next to the pistol safe’s open door with an incredibly satisfied smile on his face. He must have been trying to crack the lock, and just succeeded. Jacob made his way through the crowd and stood next to Zack.

“Soldiers! Come over here and pick a pistol first, but we’re all gonna have one of these. Protection shouldn’t just be available to soldiers.”

Jacob quickly swiped up what looked like a .45 magnum and left again as we all shuffled forward to grab a pistol.

I was one of the last in, and so I had to make do with a .357 magnum. It was a six-shot revolver, and I saw a spare cylinder lying on the bottom of the safe. I swiped it up and stuck it in my pocket, grabbed a holster and headed out the front of the store to grab ammo.

I found Claus out there doing the same thing. He’d grabbed enough to fill his three magazines in the .44 Colt, and was now filling the magazines for the .277 rifle he’d got. I walked up to stand beside him. He looked around, then back down at the rounds and began talking.

“You realise that in half an hour’s time, we could be dead?”

What?! Of course I realise it, but that’s not the kinda thing you say! We’re about to go out on a run for food and you’re asking me if I know that I could die?!

“Dude, don’t say that.”

“Why not? We’re all thinking it, so why can’t we say it?”

“Because...just because, man. You don’t say them kind of things at a time like this.”

“Okay then.”

That was it? This guy is really a weird one.

I decided to let it drop. We both finished collection the ammo we needed, and I headed over to the gun belts. I found one that fitted my rifle’s ammo, so I grabbed it, slung it on in the same manner that Ryan had his belt, and began to fill it.

“Fifteen minutes now.”

I looked at Claus, and then at the clock. He was right, the digital display read exactly 11:45.

“Yeah, mate, you’re right. We should check over everything before we head off.”

“Good idea. Don’t want a cock-up out there, do we?”

We both headed out back and grabbed some cleaning tools. I stuck my rifle on one rack, Claus on another, and I started to clean it. It was such absorbing work that I barely noticed Zack come up beside me.

“You only got ten minutes left, bro.”

I jumped a bit and knocked my rifle. Irritably, I picked it up again and looked over to Zack.

“You scared the shit outta me, man.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t stress.”

There was a pause, and then Zack said, “You want me to have a look at the mechanism for you?”

I thought about it for a bit. Zack was good with machines and stuff, maybe it would help with him looking over my gun.

“Sure, man. Thanks for the help.”

Zack dismantled the bolt and started squinting at it. After only a few seconds, he looked up.

“This thing’s got about as much oil as an orange. Chuck us the bottle from over there.”

I threw Zack the bottle in question and he began to apply the oil as I finished on the barrel. We had barely finished when Ryan could be heard shouting, “Alright then, fall in!”

Zack looked up. “Good luck, Ollie. Make sure you come back.”

“Seeya soon, Zack.” I slapped him on the shoulder, picked up my newly cleaned rifle and walked out to the front with Claus.

The group was clustered around the doorway, but there was an opening where the rest of our group were standing. Jacob was talking to Ryan, wishing him luck, Lisa was crying in her boyfriend, Dillon’s arms, and Reese looked like he was about to be sick.

We all grouped up around the door as Jacob clapped Ryan on the shoulder, much like I had done with Zack a minute earlier.

“Good luck,” said Jacob to all of us as we walked past to join Ryan at the door. I walked up to stand by his shoulder, as we’d agreed. Everybody else was in formation, Claus and the slightly green Reese flanking Dillon and Liam. Mitch and Dave were also standing by the door; they would be providing us cover fire until we reached the car park.

Ryan looked at me, then at the team. Everything was silent as Ryan held up his fist, then uncurled three fingers.

This is it.

Shit, I was scared.

Ryan folded down his fourth finger slowly...

Shitshitshitshitshit.

... his middle finger went down next, even slower...

The room’s atmosphere was taut as a drum, everybody waiting for the final finger to fold down...

And it did, with a sharp action nobody expected. Ryan’s hand slammed down on the handle and we moved out of the store. Mitch and Dave also left the store, but only to kneel down at the doorway and watch us through their scopes.

We run across the car park outside the Lair and the other three stores that shared the bays. I got a good look around the place, and already, several of the things were moving in that shambolic walk, some faster than others. Their moans could be heard, the eerie sound mixing in with their shuffling footsteps to create a literal scene from a horror movie.

I had slung my rifle over my back and instead was holding my revolver in one hand and a quick loader in the other. We had made it about twenty metres when, a zombie grew close enough to prompt Liam to raise his pistol. Before he could shoot, however, Ryan shouted out.

“Use your knives, guys. Save ammo, and if we make too much noise, they’ll hear us.”

Liam responded by drawing his hunting knife and making a swipe at it. However, before his arm had barely left his side, the thing’s head exploded from out of nowhere. I looked back to see Dave’s rifle smoking from a recently fired shot. He moved to reload and I noticed the silencer on the end of his gun.

Zack must have just got that safe open as we left. I thought he might try to get that one.

The mall was still a good 300 metres away, and so we picked up the pace. The zombies had taken notice of us, but once they got within a few metres, either Dave or Mitch picked them off with a silent shot from one of their rifles. The slightly audible crack from Mitch’s .375 preceded most of the missed shots, but Dave must have been one hell of a shot, because the smaller impacts of the less powerful .303 had always met their mark with precision. I could only say that I was glad he was at my back.

We only needed the knives once. We had just crossed the road dividing the Lair’s area and the mall’s parking lot when a faster zombie came from the front, at just the right angle so that Dave and Mitch couldn’t see it. The thing was a horrible sight, a mid-thirties man who, judging by the uniform, must have worked at the chemist. His white shirt was ripped beyond belief, and his whole left cheek was missing, presumably bitten off. I felt like retching, but there was no time to. It drew within a couple of metres and made a lunge for Ryan. He was far too quick, however, and he made a deft sidestep and slammed his machete into the thing’s head with a disgusting squelch. Ryan turned and yanked the huge knife out, span around and continued running. I noticed he was pale; it must have scared the crap out of him.

It was not too long before we reached the doors. Dillon and Liam had grabbed hold of a pair of trolleys and were running along with both hands gripping the trolley, revolvers sandwiched between the bar and their right hand. The doors were large and made of glass. It would have once been crystal clear, but now the outside was stained with bloodied handprints. A pair of half eaten bodies lay inside, dressed in the barely recognisable garb of security officers.

That must mean there were some inside...or there still are.

Reese moved up to the doors and grabbed a crowbar from his belt. He seemed to have calmed down a bit, which was unusual. He inserted the flat end into the doors and leant against it. The two doors slowly began to prise apart as he applied more weight. When it got to a certain point it got easier to push, and Reese put the crowbar back into his belt and pushed with his hands instead. The doors opened enough to fit the trolley through, and we were in, doors slamming shut behind us.

Part 1

The human population, Jake tells me, has dropped by about ninety percent. Meaning ninety percent of the world has died. I don’t know how he knows, of whether it’s just a guess, but I figure even his guesses are good. Everything else he does seems to be.

And even to my untrained eye, that sounds about right. The first day was just a complete annihilation. Death, destruction, and fire. Blood stained the streets everywhere, in every country. New York, London, Paris, Moscow, the lot.

I don’t know why I made it through and not other people. Half of those guys we lost here were far better fighters than me. Most were smarter. Most were more charismatic. I guess it’s just the luck of the draw.

But I better get on with it. This is a story I’ve got to tell, and so I better tell it. It’s been one sickening ride for me, a struggle to survive. To survive this new age of strife, pestilence and blood. And what caused such a horrific age?

The Sickness.

My name is Ollie.

Ollie Brooks. Pretty ordinary name, I guess. I didn’t mind it too much. I’m pretty ordinary at school. Good at maths, but never quite as good as those geeks up in the top class. I was in that awkward zone where you’re too smart for the middle class, but too dumb for the top class.

I was sixteen when this all blew over. I’m sort of average height for my age. I used to work out a bit, but I’d stopped recently. I don’t know why. I’ve got brown eyes; the girls say they’re lovely. Sorry, they said they were lovely. They don’t really say anything is lovely any more.

I’ve got black hair, and quite a bit of it. I used to straighten it down in what they’d call an ‘emo fringe’, but there wasn’t time for than no more. I used to do it every morning. Took me like, ten minutes, which’d make me late for school. I also have a heap of freckles, which I hate. They literally cover my cheekbones, making it look like I’ve got constant sunburn.

I used to wear decent clothes; tight black jeans and tops from brands like Jacks and Converse. It makes me sound kind of ridiculous now, looking back on it. I still wear similar sort of clothes, but the condition of the things are awful. I’ve only just noticed, you don’t think about that kind of thing these days.

I went to a school called St Simons. Compared to other schools it was damn good; my parents would pay a fortune on fees for me to go there. My parents. I’d come to terms with what had happened to them, but it was still a bad memory.

I’d had a job for about a year before it happened. I worked at a place called Farmer’s Heart. It was like a pet shop slash garden centre slash rural stockers, selling stuff from fish to plants to mulch to hay for horses. It paid very well compared to most other jobs people my age had, and it was alright once you settled down into it. Looking back, that was where I was when this kicked off.

Maybe I should jump to that now and stop talking about myself.

Just one more thing, guys. Enjoy life. You sure have to, ‘cause it’s short. I know it. Jake knows it. And the guys we’ve lost along the way know it better than everybody else.

“Oi, Ollie. Coming down to the servo for lunch?” asked Claus.

“Pretty sure,” I replied as I began to shift the next load of bags into the trolley. They were only two kilo bags, so I was just flinging them in. One of them split as it made contact with the bottom of the trolley, spilling seed all over the floor. Claus laughed and I swore back at him as I began to clean it up.

The two of us worked out in the back room behind the store. It wasn’t really taken care of, and there were now holes in the corrugated iron roof. The concrete floor had dents and flaws all over the place and to avoid things falling over, we mostly balanced them on plywood boards. The lighting had never really worked, so Claus and I had hooked up some dodgy fish tank lights. It worked, but the room was always a bit darker than it would have been otherwise.

We had a pretty simple job. Our task every Saturday, and any days me and Claus were free, was to get the big-ass twenty, thirty and forty kilo bags, tip them into our big green bucket, and shovel them into two and five kilo bags that could fit on the shelf. It was boring and mundane, and it could get downright messy bagging stuff that was all powdery and smelly, but it payed damn good.

Today was a Wednesday. It was exam time for all of us kids. The exams run for two weeks, and most of us have six exams. Claus went to a different school than me, but today we was both free of exams and decided to come down here and work.

It was turning out to be quite an odd day. Yesterday, there were reports of this mass sickness going around. It wasn’t deadly, apart from a few cases with old and really young people, but it seemed like everybody had it. Claus said his parents had it, my parents had it, and out in the store almost everybody was sick. They were calling it Mystery Flu, as nobody had found out how it was caused. I don’t know why the flu, though. It wasn’t contagious. It just seemed to be airborne. And the weirdest part of this whole thing was, almost no kids had it.

“What’s the time?” Claus asked.

This kid better get himself a watch sometime soon, he asks me this every damn day.

I looked at my Motorola. “Midday,” I answered. “Just past midday.”

Claus sighed. “Jesus, mate, I’m starving. Bret better come out to get us for lunch soon.”

Bret was our boss here. He was in his mid-forties, but he was a damn good boss. Every Saturday he’d but the whole staff lunch, he was flexible with hours and would even pay us for overtime as small as fifteen minutes. I’d never had a better boss.

Almost as if he was on cue, Bret walked around the corner and into the back room. He looked a mess; his skin tone was off, his bushy goatee covered in sweat. This sickness had really hit him hard.

“Alright guys, if you wanna go for lunch now,” Bret said, to Claus’s relief. “Be back soon though, we need you guys churning out back here.”

“Gotcha, Bret,” said Claus, and we both left the bagging room. We walked round the back of the store, as Bret didn’t like us walking through the store and just leaving for lunch. We headed through the parking lot, noticing that there was only about three or four cars. Usually at this time of the day, the car park was overflowing with cars.

Must be the sickness.

We headed down the road Farmer’s Heart was on and turned onto the main road, Winston Road. It ran in a gigantic loop around this area, which was totally dedicated to shops. The servo was on the corner of a small connecting road that joined the Winston Road area and the mall opposite; Jarrandup. Me and Claus went to the servo every lunch break we got, even Saturdays, when we got our lunch bought for us. Claus went to get his Starburst, and I went to get a can of Red Bull. It was cheap there, and the owner, Samid, was a great friend of ours by now. He was only a couple of years older than us, but he’d worked his way up from the counter to where he was now.

We got there to see yet another empty car park. Even the petrol booths were empty. We’d never seen that before. We got up to the doors and they opened with a ding! The small store was also empty. We looked to the counter, expecting to see Samid’s smiling face welcoming us, but instead we got the overweight counter girl Samid had hired ; Naleena. He had been forced to hire her through family connections, and from what we heard she had been nothing but trouble since.

We grabbed our stuff and headed to the counter.

“Where’s Samid,” asked Claus.

“Sick. Like everybody else,” answered Naleena. “I am in charge now.”

She grabbed our stuff and run it over the scanner.

“That is going to be twenty-two dollars and forty cents,” Naleena said, and held out a fat, pudgy hand. I worked it out in my head and gave her nine-fifty.

“You owe her twelve-ninety,” I said to Claus. He paid and we swiftly left. Neither of us really liked Naleena.

“I’m going to the Lair. I need to check out ammo prices.” said Claus. The Hunter’s Lair was the local gun shop. Claus had recently bought his own rifle, and wanted to check out prices. I was about to say yes, but the heavens opened upon us, drenching us in seconds.

“Maybe not, eh?” said Claus.

“Yeah,” I answered, and we headed back to Farmer’s Heart. Claus had pulled his jumper up, but I wasn’t bothered. I didn’t really mind the rain.

Claus got there quickly, and I arrived a while later. We walked round the back, sighing with relief when Bret wasn’t there. He would have gone crazy when he saw how wet we were. We heaved a bag onto the floor, and Claus took a seat on it. I grabbed the stool from over at our little desk and we both started eating in silence.

I’d eaten my pie a few minutes before Claus had even started. He insisted that pies tasted better after eating a whole packet of Starburst. It was all pretty good here, no noise, no Bret hassling us, and awesome food and drink. I knew we’d be back working in twenty-or-so minutes, but it was good while it lasted.

That’s when we heard the scream.

It echoed through the store and reached us with almost all its original intensity. It sounded like a young girl, from the pitch of it. This wasn’t unusual, most of the kids screamed when they saw Billy the goanna, our store mascot. But then the girl ran out.

She looked about six or seven, and she was dressed in a small pink and white striped dress. Her blonde hair was tied up in a pair of pigtails, the left of which was falling out slowly. She saw us and ran in. Claus got up to ask her what’s wrong, but she ran up and hugged him tight around the leg.

I laughed. “Looks like you got a fan, Claus.”

He mouthed at me to shut it, knelt down and asked the girl what was wrong. She looked up with a terrified expression and stammered a few times before managing to get it out.

“A man tried to eat me.”

I felt like laughing, but I didn’t because that would have made this little girl feel even worse.

“Take care of her, I’m gonna check outside,” I said, as I walked around the corner to the shock of my life.

Bret was standing there, but not like I’d ever seen him before. It looked like the sickness had finally taken hold at last, and the results were horrific. His skin was all purple and blotchy, and his face was swollen beyond belief. His ankle was twisted inwards, and was making a horrible cracking sound with every step he took on it. His arms were outstretched towards me, and I could see that the tip of one of his fingers had exploded, pus dripping down his hand and onto the floor.

“Bret, are you alright?” I asked, taking a step back. He didn’t reply, but just gave a low groan. I turned and walked back into the back room.

“Dude,” I said to Claus. “Bret’s outside, and he ain’t lookin’ so good.”

“Take over for me,” Claus said, and got up, but Bret had reached the corner and turned around towards the back room.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Claus exclaimed. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I think it’s the sickness. This must be its final stage.”

“So what do we do?”

“If I knew, Claus, I’d tell you.”

The little girl had started to cry again, with an intensity we didn’t know a person could reach. She was literally bawling with...something. Fear, anxiety, terror, I didn’t know. But it was horrible. Then, she ran.

Straight at Bret. No, straight to the side of Bret. She must have been trying to bet past him, but she didn’t get far before Bret grabbed her around the midriff and heaved her up. Then, we saw the most horrible thing either of us had ever seen in our life. Bret heaved the struggling girl up to eye level and then literally sank his teeth into the little girl’s shoulder!

The girl screamed, Claus yelled a swear word and I couldn’t manage anything. I just stared in horror.

He’s fucking eating the girl. Eating her!

Bret bit deeper and deeper until he’d torn a chunk of skin out of the little girl’s arm. He chomped up and down on the bit of skin as he dropped the girl. She had passed out now, probably because of the pain. It sure looked painful.

Then, Bret turned his eyes on us. His eyes had turned milky, but the veins had grown in intensity now, so they were still visible. Blood was dripping down his chin, slowly seeping through his goatee and then onto the plywood board.

I had no idea what to do, or what was going on in general. I was still dumbstruck with horror and incapable of making a decision. Luckily, Claus wasn’t.

He turned and sprinted to the back of the room, where the large metal gate was leading into the storage area and forklift garage. I thought he was running away, but he’d instead gone for the scraper.

We used the scraper to clean up seed spills we made throughout the day. It was four and a half foot long and painted in a dark blue. On one end was a small T-handle, and on the other was a foot long bladed edge; the scraping edge. He’d grabbed it by the T-handle and walked back over to me.

“Grab the scoop,” he said, and I reached over to grab the aluminium scoop by the handle. It was like a scaled up version of those scoops you found in pick ‘n’ mix bags in supermarkets, and fitted my hand well.

“Now what?” I asked him.

“Go for the head.” He answered, and before I could say anything he’d grabbed the scraper, swung it in a high arc above his head and brought the end of the scraping blade down on Bret’s head. It made a nasty squelching noise as it pierced the skull and entered the...I didn’t want to think about it.

I recoiled in shock at what Claus had just done, but I had to admit it stopped Bret, or whatever he was now. He stopped in his tracks, wavered a bit, then collapsed in a heap on the floor. Claus put his foot on his head and yanked the scraper out. The blade was now a deep magenta on the end.

Claus’s lungs must have been working like gallows, because he was breathing in and out like a dog on a hot day. Mine was bad, but not quite as bad as his was. Claus turned around, caught his breath and started to speak.

“We gotta bail, man. I don’t have a damn clue what’s gone on, but we gotta go. Grab something heavy and let’s go.”

He turned around to look outside and into the store as I began to look around for something. The scoop would be useless for sure, and I chucked it back into the bucket, making a slight rustle as it landed on top of a pile of sunflower seeds. I grabbed a few and shoved them in my mouth. They must have been my favourite food, and it would help to calm be down a bit. I looked for a bit and grabbed a small hatchet lying on one of the storage units. Then, just in case, I picked up a ball-pein hammer and shoved it through my belt. The large buckle dug into my skin a bit, and I realised how impractical it was going to be.

I walked out to Claus. He was alert, like one of those rabbits you see on National Geographic. His hand was gripping the scraper so hard his knuckles were turning white, and his head would twitch towards even the slightest noise.

He noticed me being there without looking around. Without losing his edge, he explained to me his plan.

“We’ve gotta get out, like I said before. I think we should head around the back and try to find somewhere we can hole up for a while. Also, I think we need some more people, so we should go to somewhere we know will contain a lot of kids. I’m thinking your school; it’s a lot closer than mine. Got it?”

“Yeah, I get it, but we aren’t gonna drive there, are we?”

“Nope, we’ll have to walk.”

“Great.”

“Yeah, I know. Now let’s go.”

We slowly set off, walking around the back and into the car park. I couldn’t see any of those things around in the local area, so we continued on. To get to my school, we’d have to head down the large road that was Jarrandup Drive, through the roundabout and up a large hill to the school, St. Simons. It was going to be a long walk, but the afternoon exam should have just started, so the people should still be there. It was Chemistry too, which means there will be a lot of people around.

We had Jarrandup Drive when we saw the first one. It was an older lady, about my mum’s age. She saw us and began to hobble towards us. Claus lifted his scraper into a more comfortable position, waited for the right time, and thrusted forward with the bladed edge. It struck her right in the forehead, and she went down without a sound. Claus jerked the blade out with a sharp tug and we continued.

We were about halfway down Jarrandup Drive when we saw the bikes. There were three of them, all guys’ bikes. I looked at Claus, and when he nodded, we grabbed one each and continued at a much faster pace. My bike was your average family bike, not too good but not too bad. Claus had gotten lucky and picked a fully kitted out racing bike, with disc brakes, gel suspension, the works. He was having an easier time than I was, and it looked like it was going to get worse as we crossed the roundabout and started to head up the hill.

There were a few more of them things around now. They were mostly behind us now, but there were a few in front, shambling along and moaning. In normal circumstances we would have had to fight them all, but now we could simply ride past them, leaving them in our trail. Every now and then Claus would stop and get one with the scraper that was too close for us to ride past.

I’d noticed that some of them were faster than others. It didn’t seem to correlate with age or fitness, in fact, the fastest one I’d seen so far had a similar physique to Naleena. It was odd, but about now, nothing seemed too odd to believe. I’d seen kind-hearted Bret eat a girl’s shoulder and talkative, social Claus smash his head in. It was surreal.

We’d soon reached the road that my school was on, imaginatively names St. Simon’s Loop. It ran in a wide rectangular circle, with the school on the bottom right point. It was a large school, with four main blocks, the primary block and the gymnasium. This last block was where the exam was at, and where we were headed.

“We’ve gotta go for the gym, that’s where we’ll all be,” I called over to Claus as quiet as possible. He nodded as an affirmative and we rounded the corner, bringing the building into sight. It was a recent construction, reaching up about thirty metres from the ground. It was painted with a beige coating, with the words “SPORTS EDUCATION CENTRE” written along the side in blue, the school’s main colour.

The school was surprisingly empty, human or otherwise.

Oh yeah, its staff retreat today. I guess some stay behind to look after the kids on exams.

As we turned onto the oval which spread out along the side of the gym, we got off the bikes and continued on foot. There could be God knows how many of those things hiding out in here and we really don’t want to be stuck on bikes if they come at us.

We would head into the gym area through the toilet block, which passed from the outside through to the main floor of the gym. I tentatively pushed the door open and the pair of us entered the pristine toilet block. We came into the shower area first, still no sign of anything. Then, we passed into the area where the row of cubicles were, and noticed that one of the doors was locked.

I pointed to it, and me and Claus headed over. We were just about to knock on the door when it swung back to reveal...

“Zack?”

“Ollie, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

Zack was my best mate at school. We’d known each other since we had started here, the both of us having known nobody. He was around my height and shape, but he kept himself way more active. His hair was spiky, like one of those anime characters. He wore glasses some of the time, but he didn’t really like them. His skin tone suggested Italian or Spanish, but in reality he was an English immigrant. He was a god at science, always tinkering with machines and stuff. His eyes were a deep green, and right now they showed one surprised expression.

“You don’t have an exam today, do you?” he said, still looking surprised. His expression grew from there on, however, as we explained the situation.

“Zack, we don’t have a damn clue what’s going on, but there’s bad stuff happening. My boss, Bret, went crazy, ate this little girl. It’s something to do with the sickness, I bet, but we’ve gotta get you the hell out of here, and as many other people as possible. This is Claus, by the way.” I concluded with a wave to Claus.

“Yeah, I met him at your party,” said Zack, and carried on quickly, “did I hear you right; he ate a girl?”

“Unfortunately, yeah, you did. Picked her up and ate her shoulder. You see why we’ve gotta get these people out?”

Zack nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could a scream rang out through the hall.

That’s the second scream today I’ve heard, and it’s not getting easier to deal with.

Claus and I turned and ran towards the main hall as I shouted over to Zack, “Grab something!”

The hall was in pandemonium. It seemed like the examiners had just turned, and one of them had gotten hold of a girl in the front row. The other six examiners were shambling around the hall in pursuit of the fleeing kids, and there was no shortage of targets. I looked over to the far side of the hall. A boy called Mark, the only guy in my year who was in all of my classes, had tried to take the fight to them. He jumped onto his desk and launched himself at the closest examiner, a thirty-odd man. He gave it a nasty kick to the face, but the man grabbed hold of Mark’s leg and tore a chunk out of it. He stood for a while munching it, and then abruptly ran to chase another kid, leaving Mark writhing in pain.

“Claus, we’ve gotta help them out a bit here,” I said over the panic.

“So what are we waiting for?” he replied before heading to the nearest examiner, an ageing woman with a resemblance to a frog.

“Jesus, man, this is crazy.”

I looked to the side to see Zack returned from the toilets. My eyes strayed down to his left hand, and the weapon he’d chosen.

“Dude,” I said. “A locker door?”

Zack held it up and looked it over. “Should be strong enough,” he said, and we both charged in at an examiner, me holding my hatchet above my head and Zack gripping his ridiculous locker door with two hands out to the side. The closest examiner, our second-class chemistry teacher, noticed us and made towards us, but she didn’t even make the distance. With the adrenaline rushing through my veins, I had simply hurled the hatchet at her from where I stood. It hit her square in the forehead and stuck in, dropping her.

I yanked out my hammer as Zack shouted a compliment about my throw. The hammer was a heavy beast with a thick mahogany handle, and I felt it hit home as I smacked another examiner in the head. An ululating bang ran out through the hall as Zack had obviously found a tasty target to whack. It had put a huge dent in the door, but it had certainly done the trick. Zack braced the door against the floor and bent it back into shape with the heel of his foot before seeking out the next examiner, a group of people following him.

Soon, with Zack, Claus, me and a group of other people following Zack’s lead with the locker door, we had soon wiped out the remainder of the examiners. We stopped, all panting. I looked around to see about forty of us were left of the seventy or so that we started with. They’d done a hell of a lot of damage with seven of them. I noticed that Mark was still standing, his hand clamped tight over his knee, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers.

Zack walked over and clapped me on the back.

“Thanks, man. We’d have been screwed without you.”

“No probs.”

We were all coming down from the massive adrenaline rush that bought on, but I knew we had to get out, fast. Zack, Claus and I walked over to the exit opposite us, and somehow everybody followed. The doors opened out onto the car park, but there was none of them there. Only three small hatchbacks and an SUV with the door open. I looked inside to see that somebody had broken apart the hotwiring wires. This car was going to be easy as to hotwire if we had to.

However, something was going on amongst the big group involving Mark and a kid called Jacob. Claus had gone over to listen in and came back with a bit of info on what was happening.

“That kid with the bite wants to go,” he said, “and the big guy, Jacob, is telling them it’d be a stupid idea. Bite Guy thinks it’d be safer going out to the country, but that Jacob kid thinks somewhere in Jarrandup would be better. I think Bite Guy is gonna leave anyway, but on that leg he won’t get far.”

Suddenly, a commotion started up in the group, and Mark could be seen storming off, hand still clasped over his knee. Tentatively, several other people followed until our group was reduced by at least five, if not ten. Everybody stood and watched as they climbed the hill, turned left and headed out of sight.

Some more talking happened and Jacob called to us, “We’re going to go back inside, you can come if you want,” before walking in with the rest of the group.

I looked at Claus, who shrugged, then to Zack. He didn’t look like he was going to say anything at all. I went to go inside, which seemed like the sensible option, but Zack pushed an arm across my chest.

“They’re coming,” he said. I didn’t bother to ask anything else or argue with him, I just got out my hammer. Zack was still in the exact same position, resting his weight on the locker door, but his eyes were darting around. I could hear it now, the slow tumble of footsteps, but I was unable to locate it. I didn’t have to.

A veritable army of them came rolling over the hill Mark and the others had just ascended and down towards us.

“Oh shit!” said Zack. “Go for the car!”

We saw his logic, and rushed for the SUV with the open door. I slid into the driver’s seat and Claus got into the passenger’s seat but was soon shoved over the back as Zack scrambled in. They hit just as Zack closed the door, tried to get in for a bit, and then saw a much juicier target: the slightly ajar door to the gym.

“Ollie, we gotta do something or they’ll get the guys inside,” said Claus urgently from over the back.

“I know,” I replied. “I’m gonna drive through them.”

Zack and Claus launched a series of protests, but I ignored them as I leant down and pressed the two wires together. The car’s engine started with a hum and I stuck the car in ‘drive’. Slowly, I spun around to face the door that they were all crowded around, and stuck it in ‘park’.

“Ready, guys?” I asked. Zack couldn’t manage an answer, but Claus gave a grunt I took to mean ‘yes’

“Let’s go.”

I shoved the lever into drive and slammed down on the accelerator as hard as I could. The SUV spun about for a bit but eventually got on track and barrelled towards the door. There was a corridor ahead of the door, so I knew we wouldn’t hit it. Even so, at the last moment I ducked behind the steering wheel to avoid falling glass.

We hit a fair few of them by the sound of it. They thudded onto the bonnet and up the windscreen and some rolled beneath the wheels. We hit the glass doors and they shattered with a deafening smash! We entered the corridor and ricocheted off the walls a few times before stopping.

I kicked up the sunroof and climbed out. The wheels had left a huge red trail behind them, but we hadn’t hit all of them. Even now a few were coming round the corner, two of them having suffered so much leg loss they were restricted to dragging themselves along by their arms.

“Get out guys, they’re on to us!” I yelled as I pulled myself up and over the front of the car. I saw Claus get out of the sunroof, but he didn’t have the scraper on him. I assumed that it was stuck somehow. Zack got out afterwards, his locker door somehow surviving without a scratch.

Claus had picked up three long pieces of glass from the floor and was aiming carefully at the closest one of them, the head of primary. He threw, and the glass piece soared straight past the man’s head, instead dropping the Year 8 Maths teacher.

Several of the group downstairs had heard us and came up to see what was happening. Jacob pushed his was through, a heavy cricket bat in his hand. He surveyed the situation and called out to the crowd behind him.

“Anybody with a weapon, come to the front. The rest of you go find one.”

He walked forward and just stood by us, waiting for them to come over. A couple of kids had followed Claus’s lead and grabbed a few shards of glass to throw. It looked like around twenty-five remained from the car crash, and they were slowly clambering over the car. The first one to make it over met the hard face of Zack’s locker door and crashed to the floor.

But more and more were making it over, and Zack alone couldn’t hold them off. Soon, me, Jacob and another kid called Fitz had come up and were battering away at the horde. It turned out that they were harder than a one hit kill, and on several occasions a single hit from even Jacob’s cricket bat wouldn’t be enough. The only thing that seemed to have enough force in it was that stupid locker door Zack had. The extra weight and range must have been what was doing the trick. Maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all.

Claus had found a piece of metal that must have sheared off the car door and was using that in a similar way to Zack’s attacks, swinging it in a wide overhead arc. This also seemed to be doing a lot of damage, so I tried it with my hammer. I swung it down aiming for the closest guy’s head, but instead it slipped out of my hands, span away at high speed and crashed into the opposite wall.

Before I knew it the guy was onto me, teeth gnashing at my face and body. I was panicking, but it gave me extra strength and I managed to keep its head away from mine long enough for Fitz to whack it one with his baseball bat. I got up but moved back to allow a bloke called Dave to move through with his locker door. I found a few more glass shards and began hurling them over the front line.

We were outnumbered five-to-one, but with such a small passageway they could only get about two or three guys through at a time. With the five guys up front working away at them we had soon gotten rid of them. Zack walked back and sat down with a sigh. His school shirt was covered with blood, and his locker door was dented and crumpled. Dave came back a minute later and gave me back my hammer, but before I could stick it back through my belt Zack had grabbed it and started to hammer his locker door back into shape. It was sure as hell an effective weapon, I had to admit.

Soon we were all grouped up in the main hall. Jacob had asked for suggestions about where to go, and they were now debating over three places. One, stay where we are. We know that there isn’t many left in this immediate area, and there’s food close by. Two, Jarrandup mall. There would be a constant supply of food, and chances are there’s going to be a lot of people there. Three, as put forward by Claus, the Hunter’s Lair. It was across the road from the mall, safe, secure, and there would be a hell of a lot of weapons.

Jacob liked the Lair plan, but the two other main contenders, Dave, who wanted to stay here, and a girl called Marie, who liked the mall idea, were putting forward a very good case. After a good ten minutes of argument, they reached a verdict. Fitz came over to let us know.

“We’re going to the Lair, boys. I just hope this kid’s plan is a decent one.”

We got up and checked over our weapons. My hammer was still in good condition, and I shoved it through my belt. I also grabbed a baseball bat and tested it for feel, but found it wasn’t to my taste, and stuck with my hammer. Nobody else had bothered to straighten up their locker door, leaving Zack the only one. Claus hadn’t got himself anything. I wondered if he already had something small, but it turned out he didn’t. I wasn’t going to say anything; he’d turned a bit weird since this had kicked off.

It wasn’t long until we set off. There was about twenty of us, and a large group attracted attention. We formed a box, with the best fighters around the edge, and the not so good ones in the middle. I walked with Zack and Claus at the rear of the box, and we constantly had to fight them off. Claus, it turned out, was now just using his fists and feet, pummelling them to death once they were on the ground. It seemed dangerous to me, but he was an odd kid now.

We reached the roundabout and had to launch a full scale battle with the things. There were about as many of them as there were of us, and we were fighting them off from all directions. Claus was moving through the crowd, stomping on ones that were grounded with the heels of his heavy construction boots. It was as good as having a brick attached to your shoes. We lost a guy, kid named Lars. He was the loner of the year, sitting in the library every lunch playing games. However, it still hit home. The kid was dead now, not an ounce of life left in him. It was scary, without doubt.

Another one bites the dust.

We set off up Jarrandup Drive again. The bike that we had left was no longer there. I hoped that somebody had used it to escape the plague. The road was scattered with people, but they could never muster up a proper attack, and it wasn’t long before we reached the back door of the Hunter’s Lair.

About me, and what I'm doing here!

Hey guys, and welcome!

First of all, just to clear it up, my name is Charlie. However, unfortunately, the internet is no longer a safe place, so we'll leave it at that. However, I will tell you that I live in Australia, and if you want to reach me, you can do so at no_bingo@mail.com.

Next, about why I'm doing this.

Publishing a book without having a literary agent or hiring a manuscript reader is almost impossible, and as I was sitting there pondering ways to get my novel noticed, I had an epiphany.

One of my all time favourite authors is a guy called Matthew Reilly. His novels are known everywhere for their fast pace, and the fact that they never stop moving, and I believe that his books have reached the millions in sales.

The first book of his that I actually read was a particularly good piece named Hover Car Racer, which remains as my favourite book now, after a good couple of years. I bought it in paperback, and once I finished it, I noticed, in the back, that he had first published it on the internet. For free!

Now he was in a bit of a different situation to me, having published before, but the was I saw this was amazing! And I thought, "this guy's got the right idea!" If you want something to get noticed, shove it on the internet.

And this is what I'm doing. I don't have high hopes for it, but hey! Even if it doesn't get noticed by any particular publisher, I hope that it's given people as much fun reading it as I got out of writing it.

But anyway. You don't want to read about me and my life; you're here for the story. I'll be posting it up in however many parts, and although it won't be regular, I'll try and keep it to one part per week.

Thanks for reading!