Frostbite

The wind screams through the car as I speed through the night, chilling me to my core. My knuckles grip tightly on the steering wheel, turning a dull, frostbite blue. I lift a hand, balling it into a fist, then releasing it, trying to get some feeling back into the rough, callused appendages. It's not working.

I curse under my breath, and continue driving.

Tim's voice sparks through the radio, "Alright you two it's 1 A.M. Time for an Armory news gossip update."

My senseless fingers miraculously locate the talk button on the handset.

"Cut the shit," I growl back. "What's going on? Why am I pulling double shifts with this laughing asshole next to me?"

Jay half heartedly punches my shoulder.

"Okay. Let's see..."

More rustling in the background. Can this fucker ever have anything ready?

"Ah, here we go. The Kiwis brought it in earlier, I told you, hopefully you weren't too wasted to remember. You'll be pleased to know you have a new toy to play with. And it's a SIG assault rifle, so I have no idea where they found it.

"Thirty round capacity, selective fire, fairly heavy. I'll be fitting this baby out with an ACOG scope soon so you've got some decent sights. I'm putting this one in your lockbox Felix my friend. Consider it as a gift. Hey I'll even chuck in a box of ammunition for you, Jacketed Hollow Points, so you have a nice punch. I'm feeling generous."

He chuckles. I'm glad he's done that for me. For the first time in what seems like an eternity, I allow myself a crooked smile.

"Now for Mr. Jarryd Tuho."

Jay's ears prick up.

"A Mossberg 500! Ooooh, I'm slightly jealous. Eight shell capacity, and the stocks been sawed off, so this is a lovely close quarters weapon for when you want to get really messy. I think you netted a biker's gun Jay. A bit beat up, but it'll work just fine."

Jay punches the air, "Fuck yes!"

"Now onto gossip, word's been going around that Master Jose might be moving on up to better things. Apparently a survivor colony has made contact with us. Their based in Sydney, and they number roughly 200 and they want him. So yeah, news there. And we have some newborns expected, Amy and Dave's kids. In other news, clear skies tomorrow, followed by light showers, blah blah blah."

Jose might be leaving. I'm astounded. Relieved too. Maybe I won't be so angry all the time.
What am I saying. Of course I'll be. I've seen too much. Too fucked up since it started. All the tears and blood.

Fuck it, no time to reflect, we're here.

I pull the car round and park it on the side of the road. Jay covers the path ahead with the MG. I open the door and step out into the night.

I thumb for the switch, making contact. The floodlights burst into life, illuminating the watchtowers. I knew we'd get contact here. Three bodies turn towards the light, growling like the three heads of Cerberus. Then to me.

Jay opens up, spraying the infected with more than enough to put them down. Their fragile rotting bodies open up, ribbons of crimson liquid emanate from deep holes bored into their flesh. They spasm under the hail of lead, before falling to the ground.

The thunder of the gun subsides.

I turn to Jay, "Dude. Was that really necessary? You've probably attracted more now, and now we're going to have to waste more-"

Before I finish my sentence, four more runners burst out of the treeline. I turn and fire, dropping them quickly. Poor bastards. They never knew what hit them.

I reload, keeping the partially spent magazine in reserve, Just in case.

We climb the towers in silence. I can tell Jay is shaken by what just happened. It's his first time on watchtower guard. The place we affectionately call The Blockade. It's a hell hole. And we're just getting started.