Huddle
Don’t have a lot of time to post today. We’re not sure we dare show any light, and in the thick undercloud darkness, any glimmer is too much. I have turned the brightness on the screen down so much I can barely make out what I’m typing.
We found the supermarket depot today. Clearly, we’re not the only ones who know about it. There was activity inside, but we didn’t get close enough to see what.
More importantly, there were guards on the gate. Armed guards, with guns. They looked well-equipped – cleaner and less cobbled-together than the rest of us. Clearly, they haven’t had to wear whatever clothes they came across that happened to be the right size. They looked so official – so normal – that we almost didn’t see them at all. We stopped far too late and stared at them. They looked as startled as we did, staring back at us.
Then they grabbed for their weapons and shouted. They weren’t friendly shouts and guards on the gate wouldn’t intimidate away shamblers. They had to be there to defend the store from other survivors. We didn’t even think about it; our instincts told us to run, so that’s what we did.
It’s not a good sign that they chased us. It’s probably worse that we led them straight back to our vehicles – in our panic, we went back to Thorpe and Dale and our fastest ticket out of there. We forgot that it’s not a quick job to get the vehicles started.
There was so much shouting, lost in the frantic effort to get to safety. Get away, anywhere, where the men with guns can’t find us. Push, come on, release the clutch, come on.
The pair that chased us didn’t attack, not right away. They stopped and radioed someone – there’s no mistaking that tilt of the head towards the shoulder. They held their guns ready a short distance away, and when our engines roared and we were scrambling inside, they opened fire.
No-one was hurt. I’m sure about that. But they punctured the vehicles, both of them – the offroader’s rear windscreen is peppered with holes. How they didn’t hit someone, I don’t know.
We drove hell-for-leather in any direction but towards the depot. Tia was behind the wheel of the campervan – she’s small, but crazy. It was her idea to dive right into a warehouse and close up the doors, huddling down while we listened for our pursuit.
It came. Eventually, we heard the engines grumbling slowly along the warehouse district roads. So loud, so obvious – we were right to stop, or they could have just followed our noise right to us. I think that’s what they were looking for, because they didn’t check inside the quiet buildings. They were looking for noisy runners, not rabbits.
They’ve been circling ever since, even through the rain. We don’t dare move or light a fire – back to huddling in blankets and hoping that no-one notices us. I don’t like the look of these people. They’re too organised.
I’m not sure what we’ll do in the morning. What if they’re still out there?
Have to go – time to put the light out.
- Category: 13. Haven,Uncategorized
