Adrian Smith - The Rule of Three

Stumbling backwards, she brought the katana up as she fell. The speed of the creature went against it as the tip of the sword slid in underneath its chin and up into its brain, killing it instantly. Black, foul-smelling sludge poured down the blade to coat Dee’s arm and neck.

Gasping, her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest, she gagged and pushed the living nightmare off her. Hearing the shrieks again, but much closer, she listened intently. Screams, human screams, were intermingled with them.

Time to leave.

As she cleared the fence, she saw a group of people running up the street.

Dee gasped. People? I haven’t seen anyone for a couple of days!

“In here!” she waved.

The group turned towards the sound of her voice as one, their eyes wide in terror. They changed course and dashed towards her.

Dee ran to her basement door and swung it open. Getting a better look at the group, Dee made out four men and a couple of women.

“Hurry! C’mon!” Dee called, gesturing urgently for them to get inside.

The shrieking sounded really close as she slammed the door behind them, bolting it.

“Quickly, in the back,” Dee instructed. She reached into a plastic container and splashed some of the foul-smelling liquid over the door and floor.

Satisfied that she had disguised their presence, she joined the frightened group in the shadows. Dee could hear the creatures scratching around outside, and one of the creatures banged into the door, its joints popping as it moved around. It scratched at the door again, sniffing. Dee hoped that her seaweed garden solution would do the trick again, that its pungent stench would confuse the creatures, tricking them into thinking there was nothing to devour here. For the second time that day, the creatures moved on, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“What’s the awful smell?” asked one of the men, whispering. Dee looked at him. Shaved head, slightly overweight, funny, beady eyes.

“That awful smell just saved your life,” Dee said. Annoyed, she met his eyes and glared at him.

“Matt, manners. She just saved our ass,” said one of the women.

“Sheesh, all right.”

Dee looked over at the woman who had chastised Matt and smiled. She had blonde hair, nice figure, a real beauty.

“Sorry about that. I’m Alice. You know Matt.” She nodded in his direction. Pointing at the others, she listed their names in turn. “Mike, Aston, Vicki and Boss.”

“Boss?” exclaimed Dee, looking closer at the teenage boy Alice had pointed at. “What, like Bruce Springsteen?”

Boss looked at Dee, a grin on his face. “Who?”

I like this kid already.

Boss started to laugh. “Nah, it’s a gaming thing. I used to boss everyone around in my WOW guild, drove everyone nuts.”

Oh, a gamer?

Dee grinned. “All right, Boss.” Dee looked over the group and lowered her voice. “That foul smell is raw sewage. It hides our scent from those creatures out there. That stench I put on the door is seaweed, and it does the same thing. You are welcome to stay here, but I have rules. I’ve managed to hide away from the creatures for three days. You get used to it, trust me.”

Dee glanced at each of them. So far they were paying attention.

“Rule one. Stay out of sight. Two. Minimal noise, no raised voices.” Dee grimaced. “We can share what little food I have. Hopefully my husband Jack will arrive before we have to scavenge more.”

“Variants. They’re called Variants,” murmured Boss.

Dee turned and looked at Boss. “What?”

“That’s what the American on the radio was calling them. Variants.”

“You’ve got a radio?”

“Well, had, until they found me and Mum.”

Dee could see Boss didn’t want to discuss the events of the last few days, so she made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Variants? Variants of what?

Dee’s group settled into an uneasy routine. For ten days they tried their best to be silent at all times, especially during the night. The darkness brought nightmares of hellish proportions. The Variants outside scurried, popped and shrieked continuously.

The ever-present fear of being discovered frayed everyone’s nerves. They took turns watching out of the ventilation grates in two-hour shifts, being careful to stay in the shadows.

Boss came up with the idea of dousing themselves in the seaweed solution, and Dee insisted that the human waste be buried and covered in garden lime. Minutes ticking by dragged into hours, and hours dragged into days.

And still no Jack.

With little else to do when not on watch, they played cards, read books from Jack and Dee’s stored collection or tried to sleep. But, knowing what awaited them outside, real sleep was a forgotten luxury.

Boss and Dee became fast friends, finding a common ground in all things Monty Python. They would try to lighten their mood by writing quotes, each testing the other person’s knowledge.

Matt, Alice and Aston all sat staring morosely, sometimes whispering to each other.

Vicki and Mike spent long hours just cuddling, only rising to do their shifts, eat and use the primitive bathroom. They had barely said two words to anyone, the shock of the past few days showing.

We all deal with things in a different way, some better than others.

Dee knew they probably had only one more days’ worth of food left, at best. They had exhausted the supplies they’d managed to scrounge from the immediate neighbourhood. No one was willing to venture out any farther than they had already. A few close calls with the Variants had scared everyone. Now they had no choice. If they were going to eat, they would have to go out into the mess the virus had caused.

Looking up from the book she was reading, The Chrysalids , she nudged Boss with her foot. “Hey.”

Boss was surrounded by electronic bits and pieces, remnants of an old ham radio her dad had given her. Without looking up, he replied, “Yeah?”

“Any luck?” Dee whispered.

“Nope, it’s dead. An ex radio. Expired. No longer with us.” Boss was now grinning.

Playing along, Dee said, “It was all right when it left the shop.” She sighed. “But seriously, could you fix it?”

“Not without the right parts. Then, yeah, maybe.”

Dee leant forwards in her chair, shuffling closer to Boss. The smell of the dusty radio parts evoked fond memories of her childhood, of watching her father patiently assemble the old ham radio, trying to get it to work. He had explained what he was doing to Dee, but it had all sounded the same to her. She’d just loved hearing his voice.

Blinking away the memory, she furrowed her eyebrows at Boss. “So, did your father teach you how to do that?”

Boss paused. Putting down the small screwdriver, he shifted his weight, stretching out a leg. “Yeah, well, sort of. He taught me how to use the radio. He loved to chat to people all around the country, and the world too, I suppose. I don’t know, really. He wasn’t around much.”

Dee watched as Boss shuffled around, turning away from her. He leant back down and picked up some pieces of the radio. He glanced around the room, his blue eyes flickering to her.

Dee placed a hand on his shoulder. “Boss, what happened? To him, to your mum?”

Wetting his lips, Boss said, “They happened, Dee. They!” He gestured wildly towards outside.

Dee patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

Boss sighed, rubbing his hands through his hair. He stared at Dee. “Dad worked as an IT consultant, hardware stuff. He mainly worked for that big animal breeding place. It wasn’t long after the news broke, a couple of days maybe, that Dad came home sick. We thought he had a fever. He still insisted on going to work the next day, and then he never came back. As it got worse out there, Mum and I hid in the attic storage area. That’s where Dad’s radio was. So, when it was quiet, I warmed her up and reached out.”