The One Percent [Episode 2] by Erik P. Heller

Author:Erik P. Heller [Heller, Erik P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombies
Published: 2018-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

IX0X0X0X0X0X0XI

I felt so much better. I’d given David and Lucy a rapid, but hopefully efficient, lesson in how to handle a shotgun without killing one another or me, which they both seemed to pick up OK, I hoped.

We had decamped from outside to inside the building, the doors and windows were locked, and I’d even found a way to lower the metal shutters that fitted over the windows, so they were very secure, at least the downstairs ones were but I figured the upstairs windows wouldn’t be a problem against Groaners.

Finally, I’d wound down the shutter on the front door as far as I could, while still allowing somebody to slip underneath. I locked the glass front door behind us to ensure nobody could get in easily.

The shop had been a rare piece of good news. I was togged up in a new waterproof jacket, I’d shoved some waterproof trousers into my pack just in case. I had one of those Australian bush hats, minus the dangling corks, as well as a new sweater and a spare, again in my pack.

The gun room was awesome. All but fully stocked, there were racks of shotguns, some single action rifles, and a whole load of ammo so I’d taken a shotgun and a rifle, filled the pockets of my coat with ammunition, and put another box for each in my pack.

I’d encouraged Lucy and David to do the same.

After that we shifted everything, including some warm sleeping bags, upstairs into one of the offices so we could keep a watch on anything moving outside while we talked, and day slowly sank into the greyness of dusk and finally darkness.

I was sitting on an office chair, watching out of the window while wrapped up in my sleeping bag.

“Who was the woman, Frank?” David asked quietly.

“Daisy. Her name was Daisy, we met yesterday. Or was it the day before? I’ve already lost track of time.”

“You were arguing.” It was a very accurate summation of what took place in the cab of the tractor by Lucy.

“We were. Yes.”

The two of them were sitting in chairs, also wrapped up and about as far away from me as they could get, watching me with wary eyes in the almost complete darkness. Earlier I’d been able to take in a little more detail of them. David was taller than Lucy but a good four or five inches shorter than me and wiry. He had a scruffy mop of hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed or combed in a few days, but in the middle of an apocalypse, I supposed that was understandable. He had on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that were wholly unremarkable, and expensive-looking trainers.

Lucy was attired similarly although her trainers were altogether pinker and more sparkly than David’s and her hair was long, dark, and surprisingly sleek and shiny and was, right then, wound up in what I believe is called a messy bun.

They shared one feature: saturnine dark-brown eyes.

“What were you arguing about?” she asked.

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