The Common Cold (Book 2): A Zombie Chronicle-Cabin Fever (11 page)

“I think we have to trust Cliff to look after her. After
all, she is all that’s left of his family. I know I would in the same place,”
Mike finished.

“So it seems to be settled then,” Danny spoke. “We deal with
the
Infected
first, and just have to hope Cliff can
look after his daughter and Angela.
At least for now.”

“I know this sounds sexist as hell, and I don’t want to get
anyone’s back up,” Tom began awkwardly, shifting from one foot to another as if
uncertain he should continue. “But I would feel happier if what we’re about to
do is a men-only piece.”

The three younger wives started murmuring their
dissatisfaction at this suggestion and Tom’s face reddened with embarrassment,
fearing a mutiny. Ethel just sighed.

“Please, please, let me explain,” he tried again. “It’s more
than just that; we can’t have anyone that’s not proficient with a weapon in
this hunt. We don’t know what’s out there, how many, or if there are any fast
ones. We have very little information on what’s waiting for us outside. Meanwhile
inside here we have four children that need looking after while we do this. I
don’t want to have to be watching out for anyone who isn’t used to handling
themselves. Sorry but I include you, Laurie, in that number. I am sure Rob and
Danny probably feel the same.”

“Have to say I agree,” Danny said, bravely. There was a
stilted and awkward silence before Rob finally chimed in to defend the men’s
position.

“I know you are great with a gun, Sandy - and a machete it
seems,” he said looking across the room at his wife. “But I don’t want to have
to worry about you while we’re out there. And I will, you know. It was such a
long shot getting back to you at all that I don’t want to risk losing you any
more than I have to. It’s going to get pretty crappy in the future but for now
I want you safe.”

Sandy looked over at him and smiled. It was a smile that perhaps
should have frightened him. “Jeez. Men,” she began. “You do know we could argue
exactly the same point about you men, lover. But alright, I get it. I’ll stay
in here - this time. Ladies, will you stay too? I don’t think their egos will
stand the strain otherwise. We can get on with our knitting; I have a sweater
to finish.”

Danny felt powerless, suddenly sensing a Lysistrata moment
coming on, getting the feeling that the women would be very prepared to
withhold their favours, or worse, unless the situation was rectified quickly.
He for one wanted his marriage to last beyond this one day.

“I’d truly like to see Zoë’s reaction to such a suggestion,”
Sandy commented.

 
“Only
if you men,” Janet acceded, emphasising the word ‘men’, “promise to train us up
on using guns as soon as possible.
How else will we reach your lofty
standards?”

It was clear from the looks on the women’s faces - all of
whom had endured significant danger to get where they were at this very moment
- that they agreed with Janet’s sentiments. They all wanted to do their bit; it
had taken centuries for women to be seen as equals and none of them wanted to
step backwards in time, especially in a crisis. Otherwise they would not be
relegated to the side lines every time a threat came up, which was likely to be
frequent in the new world order.

“I guarantee it, Janet,” Danny replied.

“Actually, folks,” Joshua interjected. “You’ll have to
include me in the indoors number. I’ve almost never held a gun so I’d be less
than useful out there.” He smiled before adding, “
if
anything, your remark is particularly sexist towards me if you just think about
it.”

“You can count me out of any hunt, too,” Ethen chipped in.
“I’m too old for that; I’m not like you young women, all cut and thrust. I know
my limits and I’ve had my days full of action. I just support my Joshua and I
don’t care how old-fashioned that is.”

Tom laughed. “Fair enough, Ethel. Good on you. And I guess
you’re right, Joshua. I hadn’t thought of it that way.
My
apologies.”

“It’s no problem. I have my other special skills; I don’t
feel any less manly for having no known abilities with guns.”

“And so you shouldn’t,” Tom replied, realising too late that
the best way not to insult someone was just to shut the fuck up. He should have
just engineered the situation better; standing up to women was just so damn dangerous.

“Right.
To business,” Chuck said. Having
no wife or woman to offend, and ignoring the charged atmosphere in the room he
began describing how they would do this. “There are five of us. We’ll need two
to destroy the group,” he began. “The other three will protect the flanks and
the rear in case there are fast ones hiding and they are still able to be as
quick as usual. Assume the worst and you won’t be surprised.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Rob agreed.
“Sandy,
Janet and Laurie.
In spite of what we’ve just discussed, would you three
arm up and stay by the walkie-talkie in case we need back up?”

“Brown-nose,” Danny muttered under his breath, just loud
enough for Rob to hear. Rob stifled a grin; it was more than his life was worth
to actually smile at this point.

“Sure can,” Sandy said, apparently accepting the offered olive
branch. “Just say the word and
us
delicate flowers
will be there, protecting our menfolk.”

The tension between them eased only a little in spite of
Sandy’s attempt at levity. In truth, although the request was completely
cack-handed, she understood the sentiment behind it. The last thing she wanted really
was for Rob to be distracted - even unnecessarily - while doing his manly thing;
she knew he was a good hunter when given the chance. None of them were experts
in killing people - not yet anyway - and she understood that what Rob and the
other men needed was to be able to focus on their task; it seemed men never worried
about other men and just made assumptions on competence, and that they would do
what was necessary, somehow coming to no harm. That was how most armies
functioned since time began, well, almost all armies.

“
So.
Shall we draw straws to find out who the two will be?” Chuck asked. He had
discovered some drinking straws while they had been eating; his mind always
seemed to be on the task at hand. He held the bunch in front of him. Each of
the men drew straws; Tom and Danny drew the short ones. Danny’s face went tight
as he realised that to him went half of the grisly task of execution. Janet
went over to him and held him briefly, looking him in the eyes.

“Be careful out there,” she whispered. “I’ve only got you,
you know.”

“I’ll be okay, don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not like they’re
the first I’ll ever have dispatched. Are we okay?”

“Yes, we’re okay. Until I can get some proper practice I’d
probably just shoot my own foot off.”

They kissed and held each other tightly. He and the other
four went outside to their first deliberate zombie hunt.

*

The five men fanned out across the track, the two
executioners in the middle. Chuck began to hang back to protect the rear as
they neared the corner. No-one felt the cold; their senses were focused solely
on survival. Although nothing could be seen, Danny had a strong feeling he was
being watched by at least one cheetah somewhere out there, beyond the tree
line. Hoping his mates wouldn’t let one
through,
he
focused on the upcoming corner. The last time they’d seen the pack, as he now
thought of them, they were just past the bend up ahead. He looked across at Tom
to make sure he was okay with what they were doing. Tom’s face gave nothing
away; it was set in stone, his focus completely ahead of him. They kept on
walking.

Rounding the corner they saw the pack had moved and were now
some two hundred yards off and walking slowly away; away from the encampment.
Danny stopped and looked at his fellow hunters.

“What do you want to do?” he asked quietly.

“Follow them,”
came
Chuck’s
unequivocal reply. The others nodded their assent so they continued on.

“Watch the sides, this may be a trap,” Danny added,
beginning to feel vulnerable. Now that the hunted were considerably further
ahead, he began to look further afield, still with that feeling of being
watched tickling him between the shoulder blades.

There were now less than fifty yards between them and the
pack; so far none of the Infected had so much as looked over their shoulders.
Danny was now very uneasy and began looking behind them, certain this was a
trap. He could see it in Rob’s eyes as well. The others felt the same and soon
they were all looking in all directions. They had walked over half a mile by
now.

“I think we should go back. We’re leaving the women and kids
exposed.” Danny said, almost pleadingly. At that moment the walkie-talkie
crackled and the sound of Sandy’s voice came over the airwaves.

“Rob. Can you hear me?”

Rob fumbled in his pocket pulling out the small yellow
radio.

“Hey, Sandy.
What is it?”

“We’ve got company. Those things are here.”

“What?” Rob replied, his face going pale.

“They started coming out of the edge of the tree line as
soon as you left. I kept an eye on them, thinking they would walk by but they’re
making straight for the cabin.”

“Shit. Okay, put on the perfume, anything. Just in case.
We’re coming back.”

“Love you,” she whispered quietly, although the whole group
of men heard it in the icy stillness.

“And you babe,” Rob replied. “See you in a minute.”

Putting it back in his jacket pocket, he turned to the
others. “We are going back, right?” he asked.

“Of course,” Danny replied. They all realised the fact that
the hunters were being outhunted; they were being drawn away from the cabin by
what they had all thought of as dead and mostly frozen bodies. A re-evaluation
was due, just as soon as they had secured their loved ones.

“If they can do that, they might have also laid a trap for
us,” Chuck advised. “Look,” he said pointing at the group they had followed.
All had turned back and were walking in awkward but eager steps towards them.
Danny got the same feeling he had before in London that these creatures could
communicate telepathically.

“Goddam,” Tom exclaimed. “Let’s get back.”

They began a jogging pace back to the cabin, watching the
tree line all the time expecting some form of attack from their flanks. Danny
peered hard beyond the trees and into the shadows; that was where the attack
would come from, he was sure of it. Unsure as to whether it was just his
imagination, he would have sworn there was something flitting between the dark
patches of undergrowth.

“Something off to our right,” Mike announced in undertones.
He was breathing deeply, his lungs demanding more air; he wasn’t as fit as he
would have liked to have been.

“Seen it,” Rob agreed.

Danny was truly nervous now, his finger gently touching the
trigger on his rifle, at the same time praying they hadn’t just been fatally outsmarted
by a bunch of dead people. They rounded the original corner where this hunt had
all started and the cabin came into view. Seven or eight zombies were outside
with others making their tortured way towards it. A couple had walked across
the lake, one falling in and apparently freezing in place, its arms flailing
uselessly, its mouth uttering relentless groans. From the cabin Oskar could be
heard barking as one of the undead had made its clumsy way up the two steps and
had started banging on the glass.

Further back a couple could be seen moving around the herd
of zombies. They appeared faster than the rest and were behaving like
sheep-dogs, herding them towards the hut. From their feline movements they were
clearly the type Danny had christened cheetahs; the cold did appear to impact their
capability for lightning fast movement but they had compensated for that by an increase
in intelligence or at least cunning. Both Danny and Rob had seen animalistic ambush
behaviour in London: one cheetah chasing the victim towards another who would
shoot out from cover and throw itself on the victim, bringing it down as it bit
into the neck bringing bloody, painful death. The smell of fresh blood then
seemed to attract the slower in the pack to the kill, at which point they would
all share in the spoils. Danny put his free hand to his neck; he could almost
feel the teeth sinking in.

The hunters slowed down to a walk, assessing what was in
front of them. A shot rang out as Mike took out the zombie nearest the front
door of his cabin. The sound of the gunshot attracted the attention of the
group, who at this point numbered in excess of thirty, all of whom rounded as
one on the men, changing their direction of travel away from the cabin. The
hunters lay down heavy and continuous fire; and zombies began falling like
flies, brain and gore darkening the white and icy ground, giving the shooters’ grounds
for hope that they would escape from the ambush into which they had been lured.
All of a sudden a screeching roar sounded as the thing that had been lurking in
the undergrowth off to the right made
itself
known as
it hurtled on all fours straight at Danny. In its surprise attack it covered
the fifty or so yards like lightning and leapt the remaining ten feet crashing heavily
into the Englishman. If it hadn’t been for the shot through its chest delivered
by Chuck moments before impact it would have sunk its great fangs into its
victim, ending Danny’s run of luck and his life. It was not just luck but
innate instinct that made Chuck maintain his position as rear guard and so had
the perfect vantage point from which to take the animal down.

Danny fell to the ground, knocked sideways by the impact.
Gore covered his face and jacket and he scrabbled frantically on the icy
surface to regain his footing. The firing had slowed as the shock of what had
just happened spread through the group of men. Seeing Danny still moving the
shooting intensified once more and the Infected continued to fall.