Ferine Apocalypse (Novella): 4 Hours by John F. Leonard
Authors: John F. Leonard
Tags: Zombies
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chaos.
Something to cling to when the next impossibility presented itself. When the next unpredictable element appeared in a puff of nasty smoke.
<><><>
Pearcey nearly fell over the girl.
He’d been distracted, searching for a likely premises.
Felt the rubber soles of his boots loose grip and slide on the pavement as he stopped short. Felt Gallagher bump into him from behind.
She was crouched at the side of a van.
For a moment he thought it was another mutated creature, squatting there, ready to leap.
He gripped the knife and prepared to kill again.
As he looked more carefully he realised that she was human. Another immune survivor.
Black clothes.
Delicate white face framed by black hair. She looked like some waif at the end of time.
Another random factor from fucking nowhere.
Pearcey surveyed their immediate surroundings. They were close to a small supermarket. The door was slightly ajar. He might have missed it if he hadn’t been forced to halt.
He thought he could hear running feet and low growling. Echoing on quiet roads.
It might have been his imagination.
“Are you hurt?”
He spoke just above a whisper.
She shook her head.
He could definitely hear something.
It would have to be the store. Anwar’s Mini Market.
Good old Anwar.
He hoped to fuck Anwar had left the building. He didn’t need any more complication.
“Come with us. We’re going in there.”
He indicated the shop twenty feet further down and she struggled to her feet.
Grasping a black bag as if her life depended on it.
Chapter 10
Way Station
It was dim inside the store.
Shadowed without electrical light.
Bigger than it appeared from outside, but just as disappointingly grimy as you might have expected from the exterior. Lots of aisles and a half-arsed attempt at a modern checkout.
Three tills and a tiny basket and trolley park were near to the front where they’d entered. The exit and entrance were the same dirty double doors.
All in all, it was pretty grim. Not somewhere Pearcey would have enjoyed doing his daily or weekly food shopping.
Not that he did a lot of the domestic. He usually ate on the move or opted for takeaways when he was at home. Not that he was likely to be doing a lot of anything like that anytime soon.
He had a feeling the weekly shop, nipping out for a meal, or ordering an online takeout delivery were on hold for the foreseeable future.
He let the other two get in and then turned to monitor the situation outside.
They’d just about made it in time. Figures were beginning to bleed into street.
Rush hour in hell.
Pearcey snicked the catches at the top and bottom of the glass door. Checked that the one next to it was also secured. He didn’t think those locks were up to a full assault. No sir, it wouldn’t take a great deal to bust those little beauties open.
They were better than nothing.
And he didn’t have the keys or the luxury of being able to drop the metal grills. Rattling those babies down would be like ringing the dinner bell when you were the main course.
He backed away into the shadows but close enough to still see.
The store was gloomy because the windows hadn’t been enlarged. He mentally saluted Mr Anwar for that bit of penny-pinching. It meant that there was less glass, and that meant less vulnerability.
He was grasping at straws again.
Old straws, just like him.
Crumpling in his hand.
They were up shit creek. The paddles weren’t all gone, but he wasn’t sure the ones they had left were up to the job.
“Carlton, I’m going to check the back of the shop.”
Gallagher whispered at his shoulder.
Made him jump inside his head. It took all of his self-control to not plunge the knife into Gallagher as a simple reflex.
Pearcey gritted his teeth before replying.
“Good idea. Don’t make too much noise Sonny. It’s getting busy out there. If any of them were in here with us, I think we’d already know about it. These fuckers don’t strike me as
Something to cling to when the next impossibility presented itself. When the next unpredictable element appeared in a puff of nasty smoke.
<><><>
Pearcey nearly fell over the girl.
He’d been distracted, searching for a likely premises.
Felt the rubber soles of his boots loose grip and slide on the pavement as he stopped short. Felt Gallagher bump into him from behind.
She was crouched at the side of a van.
For a moment he thought it was another mutated creature, squatting there, ready to leap.
He gripped the knife and prepared to kill again.
As he looked more carefully he realised that she was human. Another immune survivor.
Black clothes.
Delicate white face framed by black hair. She looked like some waif at the end of time.
Another random factor from fucking nowhere.
Pearcey surveyed their immediate surroundings. They were close to a small supermarket. The door was slightly ajar. He might have missed it if he hadn’t been forced to halt.
He thought he could hear running feet and low growling. Echoing on quiet roads.
It might have been his imagination.
“Are you hurt?”
He spoke just above a whisper.
She shook her head.
He could definitely hear something.
It would have to be the store. Anwar’s Mini Market.
Good old Anwar.
He hoped to fuck Anwar had left the building. He didn’t need any more complication.
“Come with us. We’re going in there.”
He indicated the shop twenty feet further down and she struggled to her feet.
Grasping a black bag as if her life depended on it.
Chapter 10
Way Station
It was dim inside the store.
Shadowed without electrical light.
Bigger than it appeared from outside, but just as disappointingly grimy as you might have expected from the exterior. Lots of aisles and a half-arsed attempt at a modern checkout.
Three tills and a tiny basket and trolley park were near to the front where they’d entered. The exit and entrance were the same dirty double doors.
All in all, it was pretty grim. Not somewhere Pearcey would have enjoyed doing his daily or weekly food shopping.
Not that he did a lot of the domestic. He usually ate on the move or opted for takeaways when he was at home. Not that he was likely to be doing a lot of anything like that anytime soon.
He had a feeling the weekly shop, nipping out for a meal, or ordering an online takeout delivery were on hold for the foreseeable future.
He let the other two get in and then turned to monitor the situation outside.
They’d just about made it in time. Figures were beginning to bleed into street.
Rush hour in hell.
Pearcey snicked the catches at the top and bottom of the glass door. Checked that the one next to it was also secured. He didn’t think those locks were up to a full assault. No sir, it wouldn’t take a great deal to bust those little beauties open.
They were better than nothing.
And he didn’t have the keys or the luxury of being able to drop the metal grills. Rattling those babies down would be like ringing the dinner bell when you were the main course.
He backed away into the shadows but close enough to still see.
The store was gloomy because the windows hadn’t been enlarged. He mentally saluted Mr Anwar for that bit of penny-pinching. It meant that there was less glass, and that meant less vulnerability.
He was grasping at straws again.
Old straws, just like him.
Crumpling in his hand.
They were up shit creek. The paddles weren’t all gone, but he wasn’t sure the ones they had left were up to the job.
“Carlton, I’m going to check the back of the shop.”
Gallagher whispered at his shoulder.
Made him jump inside his head. It took all of his self-control to not plunge the knife into Gallagher as a simple reflex.
Pearcey gritted his teeth before replying.
“Good idea. Don’t make too much noise Sonny. It’s getting busy out there. If any of them were in here with us, I think we’d already know about it. These fuckers don’t strike me as
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