Author's note: This is my first attempt at fiction in 8 years and I would very much appreciate all forms of feedback. Please leave a review, even if you hate it, or advise of improvements or plot points you would like to see. I intend for this to be a long term story (i.e. 20+ chapters).

"Gimme me fuel, gimme fire, gimme that which I desire." – Fuel / Metallica

CHAPTER 12 – Fill 'er up

Craig woke up in the (his) king size bed feeling refreshed and satiated. He had been stewing over the past two days whilst Katey lay unconscious in her bed and was glad to be there when she awoke.

Three days had passed since he had raped her first and he had worked up quite an appetite in that time. When Katey had woken up, he had been particularly "rough" with her.

Later that night, he gave her another "work out" (as he liked to call it) and again during the night after he had a particularly dirty dream.

But now it was mid morning, he'd had a restful sleep and was feeling.. what's the word?... satiated.

Happy again.

He casually rose, went to the toilet and strolled into the kitchen. In front of him, he saw the garage door.

Bolted.

He would never let that happen again, that's for damn sure. Under his system, Katey had to earn his trust. It had started well and good, with her behaving herself and then being rewarded with a comfy bed, regular food and a chocolate bar.

Craig unbolted the door and peered inside, switching on the light.

In the far corner, he could see Katey flinch. She was sitting in a foetal position, her exposed face and neck welted and purple from the bruising, her brown hair tangled and dirty. She was in some of her clothes, tracksuit pants and a fleecy jacket, nothing else underneath, Craig wouldn't allow it. "Easy access" was his reasoning.

The garage was empty, her bed and toilet bucket confiscated. She sat shivering on the cold concrete floor. As Craig opened the door, she started wimpering.

Craig simply nodded at her, "Good morning!" smiling coolly and shut the door again.

He bolted it.

He started whistling casually as he opened a tin of flavoured baked beans and warmed it in the microwave.

While he waited for it to finish heating up, he grabbed a large 3 litre bottle of water, opened another two cans of baked beans and opened the garage door again.

Katey still sat huddled in the far corner, shivering. Craig set the food and water down in the ground, right by the door.

"Come and get it." He said coldly.

Katey shuddered and clutched her arms, obviously reluctant.

"NOW!"

She lurched at the sound of his angry voice and crawled towards him. He stood there, in the doorway, hands on his hips, tapping his foot.

She reached the corner, stretching her arms out and carefully scooping up her food and water, her body shivering with fear and tears dripping on the floor. She hugged the food and water bottle into her chest.

"Katey?"

She didn't move.

"Katey, look at me." He said sternly.

She slowly raised her head, hiding her eyes behind her tattered hair.

"I'm going out today. You behave yourself, OK?" He reached to ruffle her hair, but she recoiled suddenly, tumbling back onto her side and crawled in a panic back to her corner away from him. Craig simply watched. "I'm going to check on Inverloch today. When I get back, I want to find you exactly where you are now, understand?"

Katey's hair bobbed and shook as she nodded hurriedly.

"If you do behave, I'll bring your bed and bucket back down again."

Katey nodded again.

"BUT!" His shout filled the room and Katey pulled herself deeper into the corner, the edges of the bricks in the wall poking into her skin. "If I get the slightest hint you've come anywhere near this door I'll tie you to a chair and stick pins in you. Understand?"

Katey nodded quickly, wimpering.

"Good." He slammed the door closed immediately and bolted the door again.

Casually, he sat down and ate his baked beans, nice and hot from the microwave.

The cool late morning air blew gently through his jacket, massaging his skin as he stood outside in the front yard. He felt strong today and his blood felt warm.

The smoke clouds he had seen billowing up into the sky down towards Inverloch were greatly reduced and nearly dissipated today. He felt the rough rubber grip in his hands as he twirled the cricket bat on the ground by his side.

His plan wasn't very thorough. Drive to Inverloch, look around then see what happens.

His vision turned slightly to the right and he could see a figure coming down the road, walking. He couldn't make out any details. He stopped twirling the bat and slung it over his shoulder. Walking down the driveway, out onto the road, the figure in the distance seemed to see him and started running towards him.

Must be a zombie.

Craig jogged towards the figure, now more visible. It looked like a young man in dark dirty clothes. Its skin was black and hair mangled… burnt? Closer, he could see it was indeed burnt, it's clothes stained black and charred. Its hair was longer on one side of its head that the other, the hair burned back.

Craig could see the whites of its eyes, wide open and staring right for him as it ran. Craig swung the bat round and round in his hand as he jogged towards him, only 10 metres away now.

As the zombie came close, it outstretched it arms and growled. Craig skipped his feet and swung the back as hard as he could right into the zombie's chest, somersaulting it in the air as it crashed heavily into the asphalt behind him.

Craig turned and saw the zombie was already scrambling to its feet. Craig charged and swung his bat hard into its right shoulder, throwing it backwards onto its side as Craig jogged by.

Craig jogged like a boxer as he circled around the zombie. It was getting back up again, although slower this time. It leaned on one arm to rise, but the arm gave way and it fell face first into the road. Craig had obviously broken the shoulder for that arm then. The zombie tried to rise again, using the other arm as it growled again for Craig.

As it rose to its feet, Craig quickly side stepped around and stepped into a hard swing for the zombie's other shoulder, hitting it squarely. SNAP! The zombie stepped backwards, absorbing the impact and staying on its feet as the arm fell limp by its side like the other one.

The zombie stepped clumsily for Craig, its arms hanging like a rag doll's, swaying as it stepped.

Craig was laughing as he planted his feet and swung the bat again, stepping forward to throw his weight into the swing.

CRACK! and the zombie's left knee snapped sideways and buckled out from under it, sending it crashing down to the ground again. The leg was bent horribly to the side, the knee joint shattered.

Craig laughed to himself again as he walked casually around the broken zombie, its arms and one leg useless. "You ain't so tough boyah! Yoo iz a fookin panzay boyah!" Craig stepped forward and laid his foot heavily on the zombie's chest. It looked back up at him, its face contorted in an angry snarl as it tried, unsuccessfully, to lean forward and bite at Craig's ankle.

"Lets see what you can take…" Craig reversed his grip on the bat handle, letting it hang down from his hand, the head of the bat dangling over the zombie's head. He opened his hand and watched as the bat fell down on the zombie's face (thump) and tumbled down a few centimeters away. Craig picked it up, the zombie desperately trying to bite his hand, but was stuck fast under Craig's boot as he held it out over the zombie's face again.

Again he let the bat drop, head first down on the zombie's face, bouncing off its left cheek and tumbling down on the ground next to it.

The zombie's face was a contorted and angry as before. It showed no inkling that it hurt.

Craig picked up the bat again, but this time gripped it hard and swung down across his body and connected with the side of the zombie's face, right in the ear. The zombie's head jerked to the side with the impact, but didn't even appear to blink in reaction.

Craig brought the bat up and swung down again, harder this time as the bat's corner connected with its ear again, snapping the zombie's head over.

The hard hit appeared to stun the zombie. It was no longer snapping for him, but was very groggy and slow to move around.

Craig looked down and made eye contact with it. Its rolling head stopped as it stared back up at him, fixed by Craig's stare. Its face was blank.

Craig pointed his finger to his head and started singing, "It's all in your head. It's all in your head. It's all in your head. It's all in your head."

The zombie just blinked.

Craig gripped the bat again, his knuckles turning white, 'Don't worry, mate. I'll fix it." And he swung down hard again, aiming for the ear again.

CRACK! The corner of the bat smacked into the zombie's ear again, rolling its head over and killing it.

Craig lifted his boot off the dead zombie's chest and looked back down the road.

Empty.

All he could see where traces of smoke down the horizon, down the empty road.

Swinging the bat around in his hands again, he casually walked back down the driveway to the house. He walked up to the Audi, peering inside, he saw the rifle case and pipe he had packed this morning. He walked around the bonnet to open the driver's door.

He heard something…. something…. behind him.

Cautiously, he turned and gripped the handle tightly, holding it out over his shoulder, ready for a baseball bat style swing.

There! He heard something again, coming round from the side of the house. Sidestepping cautiously, the sound of his heartbeat pumping in his ears, he stepped around and could see down the side of the house.

Nothing.

He could still hear something. Something shuffling.

The sound stopped.

Craig tensed, maybe whatever it was heard him.

Suddenly, he saw something dart from around the back of the house, rushing towards him.

"Shitjesusfuck!"

Purely by reflex, Craig swung down at it and smacked whatever it was hard with the end of the bat. It spun around and fell against the wall.

"Shit!" gasping for air, Craig steadied himself to see what it was.

A dog! A fucking dog!

"Jesus!" He bent down to get a closer look at it. It was a German Shepherd or something, he wasn't sure. He couldn't tell whether it was alive or a zombie dog of some sort. Either way it was dead now. The whack Craig gave it seemed to have done the trick.

Craig went to the backyard and saw what it had been doing. It had been digging for the grave, but thankfully hadn't done much. Craig patted the earth down with his boot and walked around the house to check for any others. Nothing.

He walked back for the Audi again, feeling relieved to be wrapped in the leather seat. His throat suddenly felt very dry as he reached for his water bottle. Taking a few gulps, he set it back down in the drink holder and exhaled loudly as the seemingly ice cold water burned down his throat.

"Goddamn…" He started the car and stared at the dog's carcass in the dirt. "Fucking dogs now… Peh." He eased the car around and drove slowly down the driveway and out onto the road, towards Inverloch.

The 20 minutes it took to reach the outermost neighbourhoods of Inverloch was uneventful. He scanned the houses he passed by and couldn't see anything with boarded up windows like Greg and Glenda's (former) house. Also, he saw no zombies or bodies lying in the road or in paddocks and front yards. No crashed cars or anything that looked untoward.

The places he passed just looked deserted. Just no one home.

He rounded a few corners through a hillside, lush with green grass and scrub by the roadside and the first line of houses and a "Welcome to Inverloch!" sign announced his arrival.

Again, the place just seemed deserted as Craig slowed down to look around carefully, looking for threats, zombies, people, anything. Anything untoward or strange. Nervously, he cruised through the streets, more and more houses lining the roadside and sidestreets cutting down away from him as he drove closer to the town centre.

On the left he could see a book store and petrol station. On the right, he could see a restaurant and more houses. Craig looked down to the dash… The petrol gauge was about one centimeter away from "E". He pulled into the petrol station, next to a pump and looked around warily.

Seeing nothing, he pulled the petrol tank latch, opened the car door and stepped out, leaving the engine running.

He twisted open the petrol tank lid and lifted the premium unleaded pump, inserting the nozzle into the funnel. Confused, the pump didn't work. The pump wouldn't turn on.

He could see the pump next door showing the price on the display, so the electricity was still working. The pump must need to be switched on from inside, he decided.

Adjusting his grip on the cricket bat, he stepped cautiously to the front door of the petrol station, scanning around him for threats, and stopped at the door. The sliding door had a motion sensor at the top of the doorway, but it wouldn't open.

Craig cupped his left hand on the glass and peered inside. He could see the front counter, shelving with chocolate, motor oil, milk in the fridge and magazines on the rack by the counter. By the door, on the inside, he could see a red button which was the manual door override. Sighing slightly, he peered around again and could see a door was open at the back of the store, near the pie oven…. A smear of blood was on the side…..

Craig stepped back and readied his bat…. Then lowered it. If he smashed the glass, an alarm would probably go off and give away his presence…. Potentially hundreds of zombies swarming down on him didn't seem very palatable.

Instead, Craig stepped up to the glass again and tapped on it. Relaxing, he saw nothing…. He tapped again, harder this time.

A blur suddenly surged through the store out from the back door and disappeared behind some shelving. Craig recoiled from the glass, readying his bat over his shoulder.

He waited. Tense.

Nothing.

Nerviously, Craig took one hand off his bat and reached forward to tap the glass again.

Tap, tap…

Again a blur darted out and ran through the store. Craig could only catch glimpses of it between the shelf aisles.

Then it disappeared again….

No movement.

Craig leaned in closer to the glass door and peered left…. Nothing.

He peered right…. nothing.

Craig suddenly jumped back as something crashed heavily against the glass with a dull thud. Craig nearly fell back on his bum as he saw a bloodied zombie pounding on the glass. The zombie was in an orange boiler suit of some sort and had long thin hair… It's face and front of its suit was stained dark with heavy blood.

Craig eyed the zombie warily as he got to his feet. The zombie was pounding and jumping furiously. It bumped into a drinks stand, sending plastic bottles tumbling onto the floor.

Craig had an idea.

Craig approached the door carefully, hands out by his side for balance. The zombie was thrashing and growling behind the glass. Craig could hear it.

Craig darted right and the zombie pushed against the glass towards him. Craig darted back to the left and the zombie again rushed after him, skimming across the glass door.

And crashed into the wall with the red button on it.

The door whizzed to life and opened, catching slightly on the zombie's foot as it tried to get up. Taking to chances, Craig raised the bat over his shoulder and charged inside.

The zombie was on its hands and knees and reached for Craig's legs, but Craig stepped back and brought the bat down in a swing. Caught slightly off balance, the bat hit the zombie clumsily and flew out of his hands, tumbling over the zombie and behind it on the floor.

Craig managed to scramble and stay on his feet as the zombie urged forward to try and catch him, but missed.

Craig back away, eyeing the zombie and trying desperately to find a new weapon. The zombie jumped to its feet and charged forward right for him, arms outstretched. Acting more out of reflex than conscious thought, Craig reached out and grabbed one of its arms and pulled left as it charged, sending it tumbling over into a chocolate bar stand.

Wasting no time, Craig ran back to the front door and grabbed the bat still lying on the floor. He turned just in time to see the zombie charging for him again and swung, aiming for the head. The rushed swing again didn't connect properly, but did enough to push the zombie over to the side as it collided into a steel shelf and fell dumbly backwards onto the floor.

Seizing the opportunity, Craig stepped forward, raised the bat over his head and brought it down hard on the zombie's head in a clean hit, smashing it hard. The zombie stopped thrashing and fell down limp.

Craig froze as he watched the zombie tensely, ready if it wasn't dead. He stood there, his body seemed to bounce up and down as he breathed heavily, the bat seemingly light as a feather in his hands.

His breathing slowing slightly, Craig lowered the bat to his side and stepped over the dead zombie. It was only then that he heard a beeping noise coming from the counter. Carefully, he stepped around the shelves and behind the counter. A monochrome computer screen was set on a shelf, with numbers and prices for the fuel pumps sitting ready. He could see a green cube with a number "5" on the screen, flashing. Craig reached out and pressed the screen where the flashing five was and it disappeared. The numbers next to the number 5 pump then cleared and set to "-- --".

"Alright." Craig stepped triumphantly towards the front door and saw something in the corner of his eye. It was the open back door, and he could see lots of blood. Craig crept towards the doorway, bat ready to swing and he pushed it closed, happy to hear the door latch click as it locked into the wall.

Satisfied, Craig headed for the glass door, which was closed again, and pressed the red button again. The door trundled open again, but Craig stepped back to look for something to jam it open with. He saw a five litre petrol can on a shelf and he set it down on the floor. He watched as the door slid closed, jammed against the can and opened again.

Feeling proud for being so clever, Craig ran outside, keeping an eye out for movement and was happy to hear the pump running as he reached his car. He gripped the pump handle and felt it vibrate as petrol surged into the Audi's tank. When it was done, Craig let it sit in the petrol door and ran back inside. He found two 40 litre petrol tanks and filled them both before letting the pump sit idle on the ground.

Craig grabbed a backpack he had packed into the car previously and headed back into the store. He stepped over the dead zombie as he ambled up and down the aisles, picking up things as it fancied him, chocolates, potato chips, bottles of soft drink… then he passed by the magazine rack. He grabbed all of the porno magazines on the rack, grinning happily, especially for the magazines with a DVD attached.

He zipped the bag closed and headed back out to the Audi, the engine still running. He slung the backpack over into the backseat and started off again down the road.

Further down the road, Craig could see more shops lining the road, everything seemed deserted, yet nothing out of place. Confused and uncomfortable for the silence and inactivity, Craig turned a corner and stepped on the brakes.

He saw a barricade blocking the road, large slabs and logs of wood, cars and wreckage, burnt out and charred. Bodies littered the street and lay strewn over the barricade. The burnt flesh and charred wood were still smoldering. Craig froze as he saw someone walk out of a doorway and into the street.

The man turned to Craig, one hand gloved and open waving to him, the other wrapped around a machine gun by his side.