Dead Eyes: A Tale From The Zombie Plague Read Online Free Page B

were carrying as many supplies as I was. One of the few advantages of being alone. Not having to split the rations.
    The estate was set up with seven huge buildings surrounding a large open car park. There weren’t many vehicles left behind, just one or two resting peacefully in the open. There was no sign of the carnage that had taken hold of the towns and cities I had passed. It all seemed relatively quiet, as if the estate had been forgotten completely. I decided to walk across the centre of the car park, giving myself a good viewpoint of all the different shops around me. If any zombies appeared, I could see where they were coming from and take evasive manoeuvres. I would also be visible to any survivors, should they be hiding somewhere close by. I wasn’t really looking to meet any, despite my sight problems becoming more severe. I wasn’t ready to become dependent on anyone just yet.
    The crossing was uneventful. My footsteps seemed to echo around me, filling the silence that filled the area. Reaching out like pulses of sonar that found nothing to report.
    I looked towards the DIY store and saw the doors torn open, windows smashed. I guessed that scavengers must have passed through here. I decided that I would take a look in the morning; see if there was anything left worth taking with me. All the other stores seemed unaffected. No one needs a new three-piece suite during the apocalypse.
    When I reached the supermarket, I could see yellow paint splashed across the windows. Survivors had been here, left the signal that the place was clear. I wasn’t quite sure why yellow paint had been chosen. Maybe something to do with “Tie A Yellow Ribbon”, although I was sure that was to do with people going missing. Whatever the meaning, the paint seemed to work. I had never entered a marked building to find it not secured. It seemed that a sense of fair play worked amongst survivors when it came to these buildings. Don’t screw over someone else by being careless. Leave the building as you find it.
    I ignored the front doors and made my way round the back. The big glass entranceway was vulnerable and there was no sense breaking my way in only to leave an easy access point behind me. The yellow paint agreed, arrows pointing round the side of the building to a door at the back. It was locked, a nearby rock painted yellow hiding the key below it. I looked at the door and saw a date written crudely in paint. “23/07”. I looked at the digital display of my watch. August the second. Survivors had been here recently. The chances of the place being secure increased.
    I placed the key in the lock, having to force it inside, something in the keyhole obstructing it at first. I opened the door, smiling as I was greeted by blue tinted fluorescent lighting. It was some sort of security office, dead CCTV monitors filling space against one wall. I stepped inside and bathed for a moment in the light. Sanctuary. It’s strange how much you miss simple things like the glow of a light bulb. I had always thought artificial lighting was beautiful in some ways, the way it glowed defiantly against a night sky.
    I turned to close the door behind me. As I pushed the door closed, I spotted the cause of the blockage in the keyhole. A spare key. Immediately I realised that someone else was in the supermarket. Someone who had locked themselves inside. It was too late in the day for me to leave, I would have to stay.
    I made my way into the main area of the supermarket, where the aisles and checkouts were located. As I walked I called out “Hello? Is anyone there?” to try and coax whoever was inside to reveal themselves. I had no intentions to cause any trouble. Just to rest the night and take whatever supplies they could spare. If it came to it, I would fight for a place inside for the night. The service pistol tucked in my trousers would help. A last resort.
    My calls went unanswered, my voice moving down the aisles and finding no one. It made me