Adrian Smith - The Rule of Three

Jack shook his head at the destruction. He bet that if he checked, all the tobacco would be gone. It was weird what people took over what they really needed.

They travelled on in silence. Jack searched the left side of the road and Emma took care of the right. The houses here were a mixture of brick and wood. Some were well maintained, while others needed some TLC. There were plenty of vehicles but no boats. On they walked through the small town and out down an empty country road beyond. Jack wanted to try his luck down by Lake Karapiro with its mansions and large farms. Surely one of them had a motorboat?

Emma nudged his side and gestured. Just up ahead was a gated community with a black metal gate framed by two gatehouses.

Jack inched his way forwards and peered in through the gatehouse window. Seeing nothing, he reached through the half window and pressed the green button. The whir of the gate opening brought a smile to his lips. He made eye contact with Emma and followed her through.

Jack gazed into the sky, noting that the sun was dropping slowly to the west. He hoped that the creatures would give them a little more time.

Emma grasped his arm and smiled. Sitting in the driveway of a massive house was a speed boat, sleek, white and shiny, begging to be used. Jack scanned around, hunting for a vehicle, anything that could be used to tow the boat. He peeked in the garage window and grinned.

Sitting inside was a 4x4.

Maybe, just maybe, their luck was changing.

Dee shuddered every time she heard a scream. When she first made it to the river path, all was quiet as she cycled along. But the deeper she got into the city and the closer she got to their house, the more frequent the screams became. Dee stopped her bike near the golf course and crouched down behind some bushes. She had spotted dark figures running across the greens, heading in her direction. After what had happened with Rachel and the creatures that prowled that neighbourhood, she was being cautious.

As the figures drew nearer, Dee could see they were the size of children. She watched their gaits carefully, trying to gauge if they were humans or creatures. The creatures had a strange way of walking, as if their spines had been bent, and they turned their heads constantly.

Dee observed them for a few more moments. Finally, convinced these children were not creatures, she decided she was safe. Standing, she let out a whistle, trying to get their attention. Now that they were closer, she counted five kids. Two were taller, while the other three appeared to be primary school-age. They came to a stop a few metres away. The taller kids were armed with a broomstick and a machete respectively.

Machete held his weapon up, showing Dee he was armed.

“Hey,” Dee said, holding up her hands.

“What do you want?” Machete answered, his voice and manner gruff.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“We don’t need your help, lady,” Machete said. He waved it around again. “We can look after ourselves.”

Dee nodded and cast her eyes over the smaller children. They clutched each other and stared at her with wide eyes, their sclera shining in the bright moonlight. “Where are your parents?”

Machete nudged Broomstick and chortled. “You’re well munted, ain’t you?” He pointed back past the golf course. “Everyone is dead, girl. Or become one of those things.” He stared at Dee, holding his machete across his chest.

“Why don’t you come back to my house. We can wait for my husband to get back and then we’ll get out of the city.”

“Nah. We’re heading to the posh school across the river. Plenty of food, and we can lock it up good.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. What do you think you’re going to do with a machete and a broomstick against those things?” Dee asked. “We need the army, or guns.”

Machete scoffed and pulled Broomstick’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They both turned and walked away, ending the conversation. Dee watched them go, torn. She wanted to make sure they were safe, but from the way the smaller children followed the two teenagers, it was obvious that they either knew each other or were a family. A couple of the smaller children looked back as they disappeared into the trees that lined the path.

Sighing, Dee mounted her borrowed bike and pressed on. She thanked Jack silently for his insistence on exploring. They had spent many summer days cycling around the river and along Hamilton’s many bike paths. He’d shown her how they linked into gullies and onto main roads. Dee pictured the route ahead, mapping it out. Judging it by population density. She calculated the risk and figured that it didn’t matter. Sometimes you could plan something to death and a little quirk, some little incident of chance, turned it to chaos.

Dee slowed to take a sharp bend when a scream pealed through the night, followed by shouts and high-pitched squeals. The squeals sounded like children. The children! Dee slammed on the brakes. The screams had come from the direction Machete had taken with the kids. Cursing herself for letting them go, Dee swung her bike around and pushed down hard on the pedals.

The wind whistled in her ears as she raced back down the path, the screams and squeals continuing to guide her. She rounded another bend and skidded to a stop. Three of the creatures had Machete and Broomstick pinned against a tree. Broomstick thrust his weapon at one of the beasts, but it was like poking at a tiger with a straw. The creature snarled and swatted away the stick. The monster still had on a flannel shirt, though it was torn and hanging in shreds.

Dee didn’t pause to think, she reacted purely on instinct. Seeing the creatures hunting the children stirred something deep inside her. A motherly impulse boiled up and burst out.

Dee lifted the bike above her head and smashed it down onto the creature snarling at Broomstick. As the bike connected with its head, it grunted and slumped to the ground. Dee shifted her grip and shoved the bike on top of the middle beast. It shrieked and screeched, clawing at the metal frame.

Machete used the distraction and hacked at the creature in front of him. The blade dug deep into its shoulder. The beast snarled and leapt onto Machete. In a flash it had wrapped its claw-like hands around his neck and latched on. Machete screamed as the creature tore off a chunk his flesh and ripped out his throat. Blood arced out over Dee as she kicked out at the beast under her bike. With a sudden burst of strength, it kicked her to the ground and threw the bike into the bushes.

Dee sat up, gasping for breath. The force of the creature’s throw had knocked the wind from her lungs. Her eyes flicked around, searching for a weapon. Broomstick was leaning against the tree, a hand holding his stomach. Blood seeped through his fingers.

The beast clawed at the ground like a bull and howled into the night sky. Myriad howls answered it. Dee was stunned by the number. A few hours ago these beasts had been just a rumour, just grainy footage on the news. Now they were a nightmarish reality.

“Throw me the broom!” Dee cried out, her hand outstretched. She jumped to her feet and caught the broomstick. Immediately she snapped it over her knee, and just in time. The creature lunged at her.

Dee thrust her makeshift spear into its chest and it fell backwards, landing with a thump. The broomstick carried on through the deformed beast. It howled in agony and snapped its weird mouth at Dee.

Bringing her legs up, she used her thighs to hug the creature and hunted for the other broken half of the broom. Howls reverberated from the direction of the golf course, joining the cacophony of sounds that pounded her head. Dee was having trouble focussing. More and more howls drew closer. She needed to end this, and fast.