moved on to the next car ...
Today ...
… it was easier to steal the generator than they thought it would be. It was already loaded into the back of the Land-Rover, and the Landy was already fueled up and ready to go, loaded with canned goods, tents, blankets and bottled water. George’s ex-wife had planned to leave, but, of course, she didn’t make it. A rapid exploration of the interior of the house revealed that it was empty. Both of them went back into the garage via the convenient interior door and got into the Landy. Bennie worked the remote for the garage door and George reversed out of the garage and into gunfire.
Seconds later they were back in the garage, the wide door closing at what seemed like a glacial pace while bullets and shotgun pellets whizzed and zinged into the garage. “Fuck!” shouted George, “Can’t I open even one fucking door without some moron pulling a trigger at me?”
Bennie looked at George doubtfully, “This sort of thing happens often to you, does it?”
“Second time today!” George replied in frustration.
“Good thing they missed this time, hey?” Bennie said, “What now?”
Good question, George thought. He felt that he had just missed something important. His head was hurting, and his thoughts seemed to be flowing through molasses. He exited the Landy and carefully peered through the garage window. It wasn’t looking good at all. The creatures, four of them including, much to his surprise, his ex-wife, were quickly arranging a military siege of the garage. This can’t be happening, thought George. Weren’t ten miserable years of marriage enough punishment? Wasn’t the further humiliating loss of all his possessions during the divorce good enough for her? Now she wanted his actual flesh and blood too?
Gazing at the creatures positioning themselves on either side of the driveway, George realised that he hadn’t yet eaten today; he was still hungry! This was not the time to pause for a bite though; they had to get out of here, and fast. George looked around the garage for ideas. “What Would MacGyver Do?” George thought, “He’d probably make a nuclear reactor out of a piece of string, some chewing gum, old boots and the dog.” At the sudden thought of a dog George realised that he hadn’t seen his dog at all today.
Another thought was jostling for attention in his head, but he was thinking of an escape plan. And about dragon-lady out there with a gun (and this time, there was no law to stop her just shooting him - at least in divorce court she’d had to exercise some restraint and was prevented from following through on her threat of castration with a red-hot poker). And his stomach was demanding to be fed. And now, suddenly, he remembered that his dog had vanished. The new thought that was struggling to make it to the front of his brain had no chance in the face of all this competition. All George knew was that he was missing something important.
Nevermind, it would come to him sooner or later. Sooner, if it was all that important.
Yesterday …
… 400 cars and three hours later, George cursed the naturally suspicious nature of South Africans who all, without exception it appeared, had car alarms, anti-hijack devices, steering-locks and gear-lever-locks. Not only did George not find a key in any of the cars, the high auto-theft rate of South Africa had lead many to secure their cars in varied and inventive ways. George had even found one little hatchback chained to a concrete balustrade. He had almost dislocated his shoulder when trying to break the window of a Maybach which had, he soon discovered, bullet-proof and unbreakable glass.
George again cursed the suspicious nature of South Africans. How could they be so sure that someone would steal their car? True, he was currently trying to steal a car himself, but that was different - he was not a thief, just someone who needed to acquire a car without paying for it. Totally different things! In frustration he threw the crowbar away from him and made his way back to the security booth at the entrance of the parkade. The car alarms were dying down now, for even South African car owners realise that there is no point in blaring a siren for more than a minute or two; the car will already be out of earshot and half stripped down in ten minutes anyway. It was quiet, George was thirsty, and the lovely warm feeling from the alcohol had disappeared during his exertions.
Had he not been so engrossed with his thirst and annoyance, he might have heard the other set footsteps echoing in the parkade. As it was, he had almost walked into the other person before he noticed that there was another person. It turned out to be Edith, from accounting. George and Edith stared at each other.
“Are you one?” asked George, preparing to run at the first opportunity.
“One what?” Edith replied while considering all possible exits from this scenario that left her alive and uneaten.
“One of them?” said George.
“Which them?”
“I mean, are you alive?” George tried again.
“Why? Do I look dead or alive?” Edith replied suspiciously.
“Are you one of them, is what I’m asking” George asked again, trying very hard to look untasty in case Edith turned out to be a Zombie.
“Which them?” replied Edith, hoping that she looked enough like a Zombie to fool one into not eating her, just in case George turned out to be a Zombie.
“You know, them others …”, George said vaguely
“One of them Humans or one of them Zombies?”, Edith replied ambiguously.
“I mean, are you dead?”
“It depends - are you undead?”
“Dammit! Are you like me or like them?” George was raising his voice in anger now.
“WHICH THEM?” Edith screamed in terror.
“ARE YOU EATING PEOPLE?” George screamed back, anger replaced by fear at the sheer volume in the voice of a female in terror.
“NOT RIGHT NOW ... ARE YOU?” Edith screamed again, more in anger than in terror this time, although most people who had to deal with senior HR staff were pretty used to anger, and the occasional random acts of vindictiveness as well.
“NO!”, George shouted back, and then lowered his voice, “Then why are we screaming?”
“I thought you were one of them.” Edith replied.
“Which the..” George started, then stopped. He did not want to start that circular conversation again. Trying to restore some semblance of sanity to the conversation, he asked “Where’s your car parked, Edith? Mine was picked up this morning for a service.”
“Right at the entrance, but someone’s gone and broken the window and there’s glass all over the seat - I’ll get cut if I sit on that! How did they expect to drive away with pieces of glass in their bum.”
“Damn,” George thought, “I didn’t think of that.”
“Why, oh why,” Edith continued, “didn’t they simply smash one of the rear windows? Then the glass would have been on the backseats.”
“Fuck!” George thought again, “I didn’t think of that either.”
Edith continued, “The crime in this country is unbelievable!”
“Uh, yes, yes,” George agreed, “but have you still got the key?”
“I mean,” Edith went on, “There’s this bloody great sticker on the glass telling the world that there’s an alarm installed. Then there’s this great big red steering lock placed across the steering wheel.”
“Uh-huh,” George agreed, “Can we go to it now?”
“You would think that even the most retarded thief would realise that he isn’t driving it away, so there’s no sense in breaking the window anyway.”
“Yes, yes,” George agreed a little guiltily, “but WE can drive it away, and I think we should do so as soon as possible.”
“After all,” Edith wasn’t quite finished yet, “there really cannot be some brain-damaged twat out there who thinks people perhaps leave the keys in the sunvisor, or in the cubby? No one is that stupid, are they?”
“Yeah,” George replied a little gloomily, “I don’t think anyone can be that stupid.” He gathered himself together, “Come on now Edith, lets go, we’re wasting time here.”
They made their way to the entrance of the parkade, with Edith complaining about the crime in South Africa and George wisely not mentioning his previous search for transport. It was late afternoon by then, almost sunset, really, and they had to find a place to bunker down before night came.
Today …
… George and Bennie were behind the supermarket down the road from George’s ex-wifes house. They had escaped from the garage by going back into the house, out the back door and over a few hedges. In this manner they had covered a few blocks before pausing to take a break. George’s memory was creeping back slowly and sheepishly into his head, like a husband that’s been out drinking all night and now wants to sneak in with as little fuss as possible.
Now that George remembered Edith, he wondered what had happened to her. They had obviously left the Johannesburg CBD together in her car (after brushing glass off the drivers seat really well), but what had happened next? Clearly he had made it home safely, because that was where he found himself this morning, with the added mystery of one missing dog and one missing woman.
It was late afternoon, and already the sun was at the horizon. In a few hours it would be fully dark. After a small discussion, George and Bennie decided to find a place to hide out in for the night. Not much more could be done after all. They were still hungry too. They were also still under pursuit.
Yesterday …
… George and Edith raced from the wreck of the car. They had