The Stash

The wind whistled across the car park, rattling abandoned cars and tossing about the accumulated rubbish from the last six months, like a child discarding all the toys they were bored of. If the breeze carried a smell, Lizzie didn’t notice. After so many months, smells didn’t register like they used to. Now she panicked when the air smelt fresh, not when it didn’t.

“Are you sure about this, Charles?” Rob asked.

“Look, we’ve been over this enough,” Charles whispered back.

“There’s a stash in there, and now’s the best chance to go and get it.”

“Yeah, but…”

“You had all the chance to argue back at the house.”

“And I did, remember?”

“Yeah, but we weren’t listening then,” Kai said. “Go on, Charles, get on with it. We’ll cover the exit here.”

“Just make sure you do.” With a glare built from long experiences of not finding Kai where she should be, Charles handed over his bike and pulled his rounders bat out of his pack. “Coming, Lizzie?”

“Of course.” Lizzie did the same, giving her bike to Robert as she readied her weapon of choice, her old school hockey stick. As she caught Robert’s eye she gave him a wink. “We’ll be fine. And come on, this is totally worth the risk.”

“It’s not going to change anything–”

“Nothing’s going to change what’s happening,” Charles said with his typical bluntness. “All we can do is live the best we can, and that’s what the job today is about. We find the stash, take it back to the house, and live like kings for months.”

“Or queens,” Kai added.

None of the other three acknowledged her nit-picking. With final nods all round, Charles and Lizzie broke away from their shelter behind the toppled van and started the long creep across the open car park.

This was the bit that Lizzy hated most, and also the bit she loved best. She loved it after the fact, when she could bask in her own daring and bravery. Now, it was all she could do to keep the hockey stick from slipping out her hands.

Step by step the deserted supermarket loomed closer, until they slipped into its shadow and the graveyard silence around it.

In a move that was now instinct the pair of them flanked the broken door, backs to the walls, weapon ready. Charles waved at her.

“Any sign?” he mouthed, the movements over-exaggerated but silent.

She shook her head in response, but just as she did there was a low moan from inside. Both of them froze as the creature shuffled past.

Zombies.

Or, as they mostly called them these days, damn zombies.

Back at the start of the outbreak the supermarket had been a death zone. Everyone had run and fought to get as many supplies as they could, and the noise had brought the damn zombies. With that many people inside it hadn’t been long before the screaming had started, and that brought yet more damn zombies.

As soon as the zombie was out of sight Lizzie and Charles nodded to each other and walked into the supermarket. This was the hardest bit, walking slowly, not running in a mad panic. The damn zombies had no eyes, not any more, and they relied on sound to hunt. The trick to surviving if one walked in on you was to stand stock still.

Lizzie had seen more people than she could remember fail at that part. It was far easier in theory than in practise.

Picking their way across the debris-strewn floor they made it inside the supermarket. Distant memories of what it used to be like in here drifted through Lizzie’s mind, until she forced them away. There’s no point reflecting on what has been, Charles always said. All that matters is the here and now.

Though she kept an eye on their perimeter, Lizzie couldn’t help her eyes from flitting over to Charles every now and then. Sure his manner was brusque, but during the apocalypse it was a solid survival strategy. There wasn’t time, out here where time had no real meaning any more, to be diplomatic or vague. If someone was being an idiot Charles would tell them, and he’d said it to Lizzie more than once. He was just as quick to praise someone when they deserved it, though.

And he’s not bad to look at either, Lizzie thought, as she watched his arse as he walked ahead of her. Or maybe it’s just because there aren’t any other options. Of the six of them in the group, only Kai and Robert were about the same age as Lizzie and Charles, but they were both… meh? Good second and third options, sure enough. But Charles was starting to get distracting.

He stopped just ahead and Lizzie almost stumbled as she came to a halt as well. When he turned and frowned at her she blushed, and she hoped that he didn’t read the depth in her colour. With a finger to his lips and two other fingers held up he indicated that there were damn zombies in the next aisle, then he nodded at her to take the lead. Before the world had ended this had been Lizzie’s local, and she knew it far better than she wanted to admit to Charles.

With that direction out of bounds Lizzie led them back along the front of the store. The stash – assuming it was still there – would be in pretty much the middle set of aisles, not too far from where they’d come in. Of course that was deliberate; Charles was very big on his forward planning, and it was starting to rub off on the rest of them as well.

They crossed the end of an aisle and Lizzie’s breath caught in her throat. Thankfully, the damn zombies at the other end were making too much noise to notice. They were groaning at each other and swaying on the spot, for all the world like a group of drunks on a street corner after closing time. Lizzie had seen enough of them in action not to be fooled by that though, and with a warning glance to Charles she carried on. Every step took concentration, as she picked out the clearest route in amongst the broken glass, plastic and even the occasional bones. The local scavengers had fed well, so well that they’d become more discerning about what they were eating.

When they had a couple of aisles between them and the last group of damn zombies Lizzie led them further in. This part of the shop hadn’t been as raided as the rest. People had their priorities after all, and at the beginning, when anyone had last dared venture into the supermarket, that priority had been food. Sure food was still important now, but if you didn’t have a fairly reliable source by this stage, you were already dead.

There was a sound from the end of the aisle and Charles signalled for Lizzie to stop. He kept going, using his longer legs and slighter frame to move silent as a mouse. Although she knew she should be paying attention Lizzie let her eyes wander, and they fell to the packet on the shelf beside her.

Oh my… How long had it been? She couldn’t remember, and she knew the plan was to grab the stash and nothing else. Old longings overtook her though, and with a last furtive glance round she picked the pack of razors up and slipped them into her pocket. Charles had said we’d live like kings. After all these months, being able to shave her legs again – what decadence!

When Charles turned round to wave her on she was grinning like an idiot, and he frowned at her again. She tried to change it to a warm smile (it’s far easier to seduce someone with your hair under control), but he was having none of it. He shook his head and carried on, leaving her to trail after him like a lost puppy.

They were almost at the stash when Lizzie got sloppy. Her mind had drifted, as it did far too often, and she caught her foot on a piece of broken glass. It crunched under her heel, and the pair of them froze.

For a moment there was silence, before a couple of groans echoed out across the high, warehouse-like ceiling. The call to the hunt.

Panic in his eyes Charles waved Lizzie on, and they upped their pace, moving as quietly as they could, whilst trying to put distance between them and the space where the noise had been. But now, as they moved faster, Lizzie rustled with every step.

She froze once more, and Charles got several more steps between them before he turned to watch. The damn zombies were started to lumber their way up the aisle, but if Lizzie kept going they’d just follow her. She’d lead them right to the stash, and all their dreams of luxury and normality would be shattered.

There was confusion on Charles’ face. Procedure was to not bring anything spare on missions, for exactly this reason. If you had nothing in your pockets, you had nothing to grass you out when the damn zombies came looking. He hadn’t seen Lizzie’s sleight of hand earlier, and didn’t know about the bag of razors tucked in her jacket.

Dying for a shave? Seriously, girl? Biting back her sigh of frustration – at herself, at the world, at the damn zombies, but mostly at feeling like a bloody shrubbery – Lizzie pulled the packet out and rolled her shoulders. There was a slight rustle from the packet with each movement, which Charles winced at. Lizzie was determined to prove she wasn’t completely useless however.

Warm up done, she pulled her arm back and hurled the packet as far as she could down the supermarket. She lost sight of it quickly, as it disappeared into the air and behind the other stands. As soon as it was gone she started creeping again, and when it landed with a clatter off in the distance, the damn zombies all lurched to a stop. With all the inevitability of a landslide, they turned and shambled after the new noise, hunting for brains.

Wasn’t on the university cricket team for nothing, Lizzie thought to herself. Smug as she was though, she’d save that bit of boasting until they were safe back at the house. Creeping past Charles she gestured forward and mouthed, “Shall we?”

He rolled his eyes, but Lizzie had started to take that as a sign of affection from him.

Rounding the next corner was a slow torment. If the stash was there, the mission – and her latest near-death experience – would be worth it. They’d have a sliver of normality for a few months, and that would make the whole ordeal of surviving so much easier. If the stash wasn’t there… Lizzie wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold back the tears. When the world was burning, every little piece of positivity was magnified a thousandfold.

The aisle was blocked with a stock cage, so they had to wait the long minutes until they were halfway down before they could see…

It was there. The stash was still here.

Lizzie and Charles looked at each other, and even he grinned. It was a wonderful smile, that lit up his eyes and danced across his crooked mouth.

Sod it, Lizzie thought. Apocalypse or not, I’m going to kiss him later. She looked at the stash again. With a clean arse.

Grabbing as many packs of toilet paper as they could carry, Lizzie and Charles slipped off towards the exit.