‘Hey, did you find that-’ seeing Gregg as he was, silenced Jill in mid-flow. She turned to see Nick, his eyes wide in disbelief.
Pushing his glasses along the bridge of his nose, Nick looked Gregg in the eye. ‘You’re one of them, aren’t you?’ he said, fumbling in his jacket pocket.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Nick,’ said Jill.
Nick stepped further back into the garage, and for the second time in the last five minutes, he took out the gun Gregg gave him, only this time, he aimed it at Gregg’s head.
Walking towards Nick, trying cover for the loss of height between her and Gregg, Jill withdrew the 3.57. ‘Put the gun down, Nick,’ she ordered, only standing three-feet before him.
‘Move out of my way,’ Nick said.
‘Put the gun down, Nick. He’s one of us.’
‘No he’s not, he’s one of them. I knew there was something going on between you two earlier, when you stopped me from seeing that shoulder wound. Now move out of the way or you’ll leave me no other choice.’
‘Nick, remember what Gregg told you, about that injection? And about the virus and how it turns people in to what they’ve become?
‘What’s that got to do with it?’
‘Well that’s what they did to him, trust me, Nick. He’s not one of them!’
‘He was drinking blood from that bag, which in my book, makes him one of them.’
‘No, you’re wrong.’
‘I don’t think so; now for the last time, Jill, move out of my way.’
‘No. You’re going to have to shoot me first.’
‘If you don’t move right now, I promise you, I will shoot you first.’
Nick cocked the hammer pointing the gun directly between Jill’s eyes. Jill did the same, aiming for Nick. Now both guns were only inches away from their respective points of impact.
‘Now why don’t ya both put down ya guns?’ drawled a strange voice from over by the oil truck.
Jill looked to her left and Nick to his right, standing half way out of the hatch was a man pointing a shotgun at them. He wore a dark grey overcoat fastened tight up to his neck, and his hair, which hung in long strands beneath his hat, was grey, long, and greasy looking.
Jill pursed her lips. ‘Fuck!’
‘Very slowly now,’ he said, climbing from the shaft, ‘place the guns on the floor, and kick em’ over t’me.’
Both Nick and Jill did as the man said.
‘Well now, I knew you were in here, fat boy, saw ya climbin’ under the door there,’ he said, pointing with his chin. ‘Almost got ya too dit’n I? And you, you must be one of them new ones Hal fetched in earlier,’ he added, pointing the shotgun in Jill’s direction. ‘But where’s that nosey little fuck investigator? Where’s he a hidin’, huh?’ he said, standing just outside the hatch.
Jill could see Nick was about to speak up and maybe reveal Gregg’s location. ‘He’s in the station room; Nick here blew his fucking brains out! That’s what we were shouting about,’ she said, but not too convincingly.
He eyed her for a long second before turning his attentions back to Nick. ‘I’zat right, fat boy, ya done shot y’self a nice juicy fat pig?’
Nick looked at Jill, and then looked back at the man aiming the shotgun at them. ‘Yeah, I did him, right between the eyes.’
‘Good, saves me a job then don’it. Now, I was told to shoot ya’ll to fuck on sight, but I’m thinking different see. If I shoot fat boy here, I can have me some nice, fresh pussy. I ain’t had that for some time I can tell ya. Dead nor alive!’
Taking another step closer, he levelled the barrels of the shotgun to Nick’s face. Jill watched as Nick stared straight down the two narrow tubes that were about to take his head off. He looked to be holding his breath, waiting in silence for this man to end his life. Jill was about to speak up in the hope of stalling him, but the gun went off sending Nick screaming to the floor.
Jill jumped as the loud crack sounded, but mainly because she felt the wind from the bullet as it came from behind, passing right next to her ear. She turned to see Gregg standing there pointing his gun, the short barrel of his Colt, still smouldering.
‘Nobody calls me a juicy fat pig,’ he said.
Nick rolled about the floor like a floundering fish, fingering his face, searching for blood and shredded tissue.
‘Fuck. Ho-lee fuck,’ he screamed, in a high-pitched panic.
Once his hands were satisfied no actual damage had been done, he replaced his glasses with trembling hands and looked up at Gregg and Jill. Then there was a clatter, and all three of them looked at the man. He’d fell to his knees and dropped his shotgun to the floor.
In the centre of his forehead was a small, black hole, and seeping from it was a thin trickle of blood running down the side of his nose. From the kneeling position he was now in, he fell backward slipping into the shaft he’d just climbed from.
Jill turned back to face Nick, and although he hadn’t given Gregg away like she thought he would have done, she still spoke with venom. ‘Like I said, Nick, he’s one of us.’
Gregg put his gun away then offered Nick a hand, assisting him to his feet. ‘Did you manage to get the fuel turned on?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Nick, looking very uncomfortable, ‘it’s already on, there has to be another switch somewhere.’
‘Well pumps run on electricity, right?’
‘Yeah,’
‘So we’re looking for some kind of power switch, maybe a junction box of some sort.’
‘Won’t that be in the office?’ suggested Jill, kicking the man’s shotgun into the shaft. She also collected their two guns from the floor.
Gregg went back into the office to look for an electrical switch and was followed by Nick. ‘Hey, I just … I mean … look, thanks man, I owe you one, a big one.’
‘Find that switch and we’ll call it even. Oh, and by the way,’ he said, passing Nick the un-punctured blood-bag. ‘I’m still one of you, okay?’
Nick smiled, slightly embarrassed. ‘Yeah, sure. But what’s the big rush for the gas? Didn’t you want to find the girls before you got out of here?’
‘The girls are still my number one priority. The gas is part of the plan to get them out. And once we have it, if we ever do, you need to get it to your van and get your van back here. We can’t risk four or five of you running aimlessly through the woods. If the rain stops, they’ll find you, believe me.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m going to see it ends here, today. When I know the rest of you are far enough away, this place is going up in a cloud of smoke, them included.’
‘Does Jill know what you have planned?’
‘I’m not sure I know what I have planned yet. But the oil in that truck might have something to do with it.’
‘What do you intend to do, burn down the town hall?’
‘Something like that.’
‘In that case, I have something that might be exactly what you need.’
‘I’m listening …’
‘I have a large collection of display fireworks in the back of my van; I’m talking some real mean fuckers. They call them “Japanese round shells”, which is just a fancy term for the plain looking ball of T.N.T. they really are.’
‘Do you have enough to bring down the town hall?’
Nick shrugged. ‘Depends just on how big the place is.’
Gregg looked about him. ‘I’d guess at about three times this, maybe a bit bigger.’
‘Wouldn’t guarantee it, but they’d bring something this big down, no trouble.’
Gregg left it at that, he would have to get his brain back to the drawing board. He’d planned on blocking the tunnels somehow and using the oil to burn them out of the town hall and into the rain, but now there were explosives on offer, he would have to rethink his strategy.
‘So, what’s the plan?’ said Jill, passing Gregg Nick’s gun.
Gregg gave it back to Nick with a knowing nod. He also passed Jill the intact blood-bag. ‘I’ve decided, I won’t be needing this after all,’ he said.
Jill smiled, taking the bag from him. She slid the office window open and tossed it sideways into the rain. Gregg, still holding his gun, took aim and fired once, the bag exploded, spreading its red contents over the ground like a liquid veil.
‘The plan?’ he finally said in answer to Jill’s question. ‘First we get Nick’s van back here, and then we discuss the next move. But before we can even do that, we really need to find that switch.’
The three of them searched the small office where Jill managed to find a make-shift bandage for Nick’s hand, but neither of them could locate the junction box to get the fuel turned on. Next, they turned there attention to the main garage, where, twenty minutes later, they’d searched everywhere for the pump switch, but again, found nothing.
‘We’re not thinking about this logically,’ said Gregg. ‘If you had to turn the fuel pumps off in an emergency, say because of a fire, where would you put the cut-off switch?’
‘It would have to be somewhere where the fire service could easily get at it,’ said Nick.
‘And somewhere far enough away from the main pumps outside I would have thought,’ added Jill.
‘So it would have to be on a wall somewhere, or tucked away in a shed or small structure close by, which means you two will have to go back outside and try to find it.’
Jill rolled her eyes at the thought of having to go back into that rain, yet again, but it was something that had to be done. ‘Come on, Nick,’ she said. ‘Let’s get outside and find that damn switch.’
Once they’d ducked under the shutter, Gregg lowered it behind them. He went over to the oil truck unhooking a long rubber tube from its side. Perhaps he could use a combination of both the oil, and the fireworks? He connected one end to the outlet valve, and the other end he placed down the shaft. He climbed on top of the truck and opened a valve to allow air to flow in, in order to let the oil to flow out.
After he climbed down, he moved a lever from left to right near to where he’d attached the rubber tube, after only a few seconds the oil began to flow into the tunnel. Once he was happy it flowed well, he switched back the lever closing the outlet.
