Honeybee

Chapter 13

Jason pulled off the main road and headed down the narrow lane to his house, careful that he wasn’t followed. Pulling up at the gates, he jumped out and quickly untied them and then swung them open. He backed his pickup onto the drive, stopping as close as possible to the front door, and then locked up the gates before having a quick look around. The last thing he wanted was a Screamer attacking him while he unloaded his truck. He quickly transferred the contents of his pickup into the house and locked up the front door. Next, he organised and neatly stacked the food into relevant piles. Tins, boxes, bottles. There was enough food for two months, maybe three months if he was sensible. Water was the main problem, he had one month’s supply at the most, if he was careful, but he hoped this thing would be over within a week or so, once the army got out there and destroyed those things.

Jason stood and looked around. This house was going to be his fortress. It was the place that was going to keep him safe until all this was over. The old 1930’s brick walls would be strong enough to keep out the Screamers but the windows and doors were a problem. Jason picked up his tools out of the kitchen and began barricading the windows with any wood he could find, nailing it, screwing it, making sure it was firmly in place. When he ran out of timber, he used a crowbar and pulled up some floorboards from a bedroom upstairs and used them to cover the rest of the windows. The only way in or out of the house now was the front door. Silently staring at the door, he reconsidered his idea to keep it as the only exit. What if a Screamer came through it? He would have no escape route. He went to the back door and undid his barricading work. He took one length of timber and wedged it against the door at an angle. It would at least offer some protection. He did the same at the front door and then returned his tools to the kitchen.

Hunger growled in the depths of Jason’s stomach and he rummaged for something to eat. The smart thing to do would be to eat the contents of the refrigerator and freezer. With the power out those items wouldn’t last much longer. He looked in the freezer and found a cottage pie that he had made months ago and dumped in there for a future meal. This would be the ideal time he thought, but the microwave was out of action due to the power-cut. The oven was electric too so that was waste of time. But the hob was gas. Yes. He could light the hob with a match and cook the pie in a pan. He got two pans out of the cupboard and placed them on the counter-top. Then he carefully separated the mashed potato from the rest of the pie. Although he was hungry, he didn’t really want to eat a pan of mush, so he intended to cook the potato in one pan and the minced meat and veg in another pan. He lit a match and turned the knob on for one of the hobs. There was no hiss of gas. No whoop when it lit. The gas was cut off too. Jason was about to lose his cool until he remembered the little gas stoves he had borrowed from the shop earlier. Setting two of them up on the counter-top, he lit them and placed the pans on top. They were a bit unsteady but would do the job, although it would be slow. While his cottage pie was gently simmering, he checked the rest of the contents of the freezer. Sausages, he could fry them and eat them later. Ice cream, maybe after his dinner he could fill up on dessert. A loaf of bread, sausage sandwich. Everything needed eating now, he would rescue what he could but the rest would have to go to waste. He set the table, he hadn’t set the table for years but this might be the last time he gets to do it, so he did. Silverware, wine glass, water glass, everything. And then he grabbed a bottle of red wine. The label said Rioja, Special Reserve. He had been saving it for special occasion.

‘What the hell.’ He said with a sigh as he popped the cork with a corkscrew, ‘It doesn’t get any more special than this.’

He poured himself a glass and put it to his nose. He sniffed the wine and then took a sip, allowing the fruity liquid to coat his tongue and taste buds before he swallowed it. It tasted good and he quickly had another sip before checking on the cottage pie that was filling the kitchen with a lovely aroma. It was ready so he served it up, he placed the mash potato on the plate first and then tipped the minced meat and veg on top, kind of like an upside down cottage pie, but tasty all the same. Dinner was over within minutes. One, because he was hungry and two, because it was starting to get dark and he wanted to patrol the grounds while he could still see. Dumping the dishes in the sink, he went to pick up his rifle and then changed his mind and picked up a long crowbar instead. The tranquiliser gun had proved ineffective against the Screamers so it was pointless carrying it as protection. From now on he would have to fight them with a hand weapon or until he could find something that packed more of a punch. He removed the length of wood barricading the back door and headed outside. The sun was just setting and the sky glowed orange. Any other time it would be a beautiful sunset but today there was too much on Jason’s mind to appreciate its beauty. The garden was silent and undisturbed so he moved around to the front of the house. An explosion of some kind erupted far off in the distance, much further than the town.

‘Someone’s still alive and having fun out there.’ He said to himself. ‘Or they just blew themselves to pieces.’

He smiled at his attempt at humour and was about to turn around and head back in the house when he heard it. A Screamer. Not close, but not too far away either. Then another screech ripped through the air from the same direction.

Two together, they would be tricky to fight, he thought.

What if there were more, then it would be over for him. He knew two things. He needed to get inside and be quiet and hope that they pass him by, and he needed a better weapon than a crowbar if he was going to survive this thing.