| Empty Graves Part Nineteen: Humanitarian Aid The return to the dock lands minus one member of their team was tough to live through in a world of death. Their faces were somber and white as sheets, palms sweating and lower lips askew from their faces. They didn't look like themselves and resembled the dead with their shuffled pace and slow thought. Gareth was dead, the store had not been checked out properly and the thought that Halifax was totally dead was ridiculous on hindsight. The scale of the city was large, there had to have been one of those things, at least, hanging around somewhere amidst the abandoned wasteland that was once a bustling metropolis. "So what do we do now?" asked one of the huddled members of the group, a young woman who must have aged several years in just a few, terrifying weeks. "We're not sure. There's tons more food back there and that, zombie, is dead now," mumbled Saul who was still not comprehending what had happened under his leadership. There was a quiet moment as the group of blanketed individuals stared at the floor, cupping their hands around their mouths to warm their cold, blue knuckles up, trying to grasp some of that warmth they had been used to in their civilised lives back in the real world, in the world where the dead didn't rise. "We should be alright to get the rest of the food," said Jake as he stepped forward one pace, his stance somewhat dictatorial. The group looked on his strong, yet very young features in silence. "Well, there's food out there just sitting around waiting for someone to eat it. And excuse me, but aren't we those someone's?" asked Jake as he relaxed his position a little, bust still retaining his authoritative visual. Again the group stood around amidst the oversized dock land building, just staring at one another and the young man in front of them, he wasn't even officially adult yet, but his way of acting was more that grown up. In the most extreme of conditions it seemed, anyone was able to accomplish anything. "Well, Jesus Christ, what are we going to do then? Sit around here and play fart jokes on each other?" snapped Jake as he slammed his heals together, making him appear as somewhat of a Nazi General. The group looked at him with twisted heads, examining the actions of Jake, picking up on the similarity to a heretic of governance, but still accepting his leadership as Saul seemed to have somewhat folding under the pressure of losing one of his survivors. He knew it was inevitable, he just wasn't prepared for it. "Well?" asked Jake again persistently. "Hell yeah!" shouted one member of the huddled group. "Great!" exclaimed Jake. "So who's coming with Mary, Saul and I to get the rest of the food?" Saul glared at Jake in disbelief, did Jake still want the unnerved and weakened Saul to still join him on the ration run? Surely not, but it was so. Again the group fell into silence. "Well I'm not sitting around here picking the peanuts out of my shit, I'm gonna get in that damned truck now and get that damned food now," roared Jake as he stormed towards a dormant small, six wheeled truck. Leaping into the driver's seat and turning the key with vigor, he glanced over to Mary and Saul. "Well come on then." Mary snapped out of the trance of her boyfriend's authoritative stance and leadership skills and followed on, clambering into the passenger seat, sliding comfortably over next to Jake. "Come on Saul, times a wasting," she smiled from within the hulking mass of metal and diesel-driven engine as Jake twisted the key in the ignition, firing up the beastly heart of the monster. Saul reluctantly tagged along and hopped inside the truck. Jake motioned for one of the gawping figures near them to open the sliding doors to let them out as well as unlock the gates at the end of the concrete pier-like construction on which they all stood. The bemused figure followed his orders and watched the truck rumble off into the distance toward the food store once again, and this time for a final trip, after this they would have it picked clean. "I say we have a nice meal tonight, Saul. What d'ya think?" asked Jake, popping the growling and fuming beast into top gear. "Sure," replied Saul as he stared out of the window. He was starting to come to terms with Gareth's absence from the team of survivors. It would get easier as time passed by, but it was still hard. Jake pulled the truck back into the parking lot of the food store as Mary jumped out to run ahead and open the doors up again. As before, the operation was simple, but marred by the mangled corpse of Gareth and his attacker, lying near next to each other on the floor in a murderous embrace. The truck was loaded quickly and they locked up anyway, despite the store being completely empty. Saul had even plucked the lucky lotto ticket box from the cashier desk in a vain hope to finally win some money on those damned scratch cards. But when they got back and as the time passed by, he was soon to find out that nobody appears to win on those damned things. They're a lottery and you have about as much chance as winning as do the dead rising, but as Saul thought to himself frequently, 'it figures.' |