Eschaton (The Scott Pfeiffer Story Book 1)

by Shane Woods

  “I…I don’t know man,” I replied, my eyes never leaving the scene.

  “They look like they’re hunting,” James opined.

  No sooner had he said that, then Rich tapped my shoulder, pointing to the house with the female freak on the first floor.

  “Yeah,” I replied, “I’ve been watching her.”

  “No,” Rich said back and pointed again.

  I followed the path of his finger, and realized he was pointing up, not across. In the very same house with the freaks inside was a woman. She appeared to be middle aged, and as soon as she knew we saw her, she began motioning frantically. Mouthing what I could only interpret as ‘Help me!’ again and again as she waved her arms. Then it all happened so damn quickly. So quickly.

  Her movements caught a lamp on a stand next to her. The lamp fell, her face fell, I stared, James gasped, and Rich cursed quietly, all at the exact same time.

  In the near silence of the street scene, the lamp was like thunder crashing as it hit the floor and broke. Even through the closed window and from across the street, it sounded unreasonably loud. The infected hunting party never missed a beat. In the time it would take you to snap your fingers, their numbers doubled, mostly fresher runners, some slow guys and gals. The fast ones hit the front doorframe, wedged each other for a moment, and began flooding the house like water breaking through a breached submarine.

  The woman’s shrieks and screams mixed in with those of the infected as her motions became more frantic. She started fighting with the window, which was apparently locked, as she stole glances over her shoulders.

  I pushed James and Rich back a step and motioned to the pavement in front of me.

  “Bleach the ground. Do it now!” I ordered in a loud whisper.

  “But, we gotta help, man! We gotta!” James began to wail.

  “We can’t fucking help them all, dude, there’s over a dozen of them, three of us. We can’t do a fucking thing! Move!” I ordered as the last trickles of bleach left Rich’s jug. I motioned for them to fall back to the fence between the yards as I fumbled with my backpack to retrieve my jug of ammonia.

  Twisting off my cap, I watched the scene unfold in front of me. The woman’s actions were beyond panicked, miles past frantic as she beat the window keeping her from safety. I wanted so badly to just put a bullet in her, at least save her the pain of their attack, but we had to keep the attention off of us.

  I started to pour the chemicals into Rich’s puddle on the ground as a resounding crash of splintering wood resounded from the house. No sooner had the sound ended, it was followed by one solo freak screech, and a moment later, the window exploded outward. The woman exited the house like a mangled Superman with a monstrosity belonging to the devil himself wrapped tightly around her. Her scream was short lived, stopping as she impacted the ground, only to pick up again as the infected fuck helping her fly found its feet and began dragging her toward the back yard of the house by her hair, moving way too fast, considering he had the weight of an adult human dragging him down.

  In the time it took to empty my jug on the driveway, she’d hit the ground and disappeared with her captor, no trace, save for a thin blood trail and a heavy sound signature as she screamed in pure terror. A trail of freaks followed the scene, around the house and out of sight.

  It was about this time I decided the bleach and ammonia would do their own thing without my supervision, and I spun to run back to the others.

  We had just crested the fence as a trio when the sound of several bones twisting and snapping at once echoed through the neighborhood like a series of small caliber gunshots, and the screams silenced immediately.

  We ran. Ho-Lee-SHIT we ran.

  We left the area so fast, we were several blocks away, and at the road nearest the apartment buildings in what seemed to be just a blink.

  James reached the gate first, and upon seeing and hearing us, Henry made his way over from his work party and released the locks to allow us entry. All three panting and gasping for breath, I slid back against the interior of our now amazingly beautiful protective fencing and let my feet out from under me. The other two did the same, Henry buzzing around us like an upset mother, rapid firing questions.

  I finally got a grip on my breathing enough to grab a couple of gulps of water from my water bottle and relayed the story to him. Rich and James interjected their own bits here and there, and in no time, Henry was all caught up to speed as he peered thoughtfully through the chain link roller gate.

  “And this was where?” he asked, wonder in his voice.

  “Maybe a half dozen blocks that way,” Rich said, “they’re smarter than we gave them credit, too. Most of them were hiding, waiting.”

  “Yeah,” I interjected, noticing Jennifer as she came out from the front doors of the north building. “We need a better plan for scouting. We also still have to pick up the other six people and all that they are scavenging from the house.”

  “So, the others are safe?” Henry asked.

  “As far as I know,” I replied. “Lot of shit at that house. Going to take the truck, the trailer, and maybe two trips.”

  “Oh no,” Henry started, “you know me, brother, we’ll get it good and get it right.”

  “Yeah, true, but right this moment,” I said, motioning to my approaching wife, “I’ve got another issue to worry about.”

  All at once, everybody turned to see Jennifer making her way across the parking lot. She didn’t look happy, her face was more a mixture of worry and a touch of anger. With each step, her thick thighs and wide hips moved in a way that always reminded me of why I fell for her in the first place. By the time that thought had strolled across my mind, she had reached my position.

  “What the hell happened?” she challenged. “And where is everybody else? Are they okay?”

  “They’re fine,” I replied. “They’re back at the house, stripping it. We needed to call for the truck, so we scouted a few blocks over and back to here.”

  I then related the events of the day thus far to her, and she listened intently, and though I could see the anger and worry beginning to fade, it hadn’t dissipated entirely.

  “You guys still shouldn’t have split up,” she scolded. “It’s clearly not safe. You could have gotten killed!”

  “Yeah, I know,” I replied somberly, “but there was no better option. We need to get power restored here, and there was simply way too much equipment there to leave and come back for. We needed the majority of the party to stay put behind closed doors and on the rooftop to strip as much as we could as quickly as possible.”

  “I still don’t like it,” she replied.

  “Yeah, well, it’s the end of the world,” I said with a soft chuckle, “there’s going to be a whole lot of things you don’t like. I don’t like it, either, but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. Anyway, Henry, this is where you come in. What’s the progress on the wall?”

  “Wall’s done my friend.” He grinned, “We just been messing around in the garage, got that most the way done, too.”

  “Cool. I’ll check that out in a minute,” I replied, then explained, “Take some time to button it up, though. Then you’re going to lead a crew with the truck and trailer, plus two lighter vehicles to get the people and equipment from that house. Make sure you have room to bring the other six back with you inside the cars.”

  “Alright, I got you.” Henry nodded.

  “Be damned careful though,” I warned. “Those fuckers are a lot closer to the site than I feel comfortable with. Be quick, but be quiet, and stay safe. A guard to each person type of safe. You feel me?”

  “Yes sir I do,” he replied.

  “Alright, let’s go check out this garage of yours,” I replied, and we began walking that way, Rich and James following.

  We walked past the pool along the driveway dividing the two large apartment buildings. I noticed that the fencing from that had been removed, too, and made a mental note to enquire about it. I didn’
t want to seem imposing, but I also wanted to have a log and track of every scrap of everything. Nothing could go to waste now, and each trip into the shell of the world that used to be reinforced that.

  Henry led the way, talking excitedly about everything that had been done, and things he wanted to set up, but I barely heard it. I was lost in my own world, thinking about what we needed, what we could do, and, possibly most importantly, what the hell were we doing anyway? Could we continue living like this? Would it get better? Worse? Everybody seemed happy, but how much of that was true, and how much of it was just veneer? Does it matter, anyway? As long as we still survive, anyway. Afterall, that’s what humans were best at. That’s one of the military’s most cherished mantras. Adapt, Overcome. We got this. We’ll have this. We’ll beat it all. At least I don’t have to work for anyone else any more.

  Nah, scratch that. These people are now my employers, each and every one of them. I work for them. We work for us. I’ve just got to make sure we all keep tracking that point. Make sure we all stay in this together, and help each person grow into their new shoes.

  Henry led us down the gradient of concrete that disappeared into the relative darkness. Somebody had set up a couple of mirrors to reflect some light, and the low beams of a number of cars blazed in an effort to do their best to slap back the darkness.

  The garage was long and low, and allowed for three rows of parking, left, right, and center. Henry had the center row completely cleared out.

  “We keepin’ those, they’ll be useful,” he said, motioning to the right side, where a row of small and large pickup trucks sat among a small herd of hybrids and minivans, with a couple of full-time electric cars mixed in.

  “Those are for scavenging what we can and using the rest to push up against the walls and give them strength,” he continued, as he motioned to the left side, where a row of basic vehicles sat. Everything from an older Ford Taurus to a newer PT Cruiser sat there. Honda Civics, an older Gran Marquis, and various nondescript Toyotas and Kia’s sat along this side. Even, heartbreakingly to me, a newer two-door BMW. Damn those were handsome cars, too bad it was now labelled as ‘useless’.

  Near the back of the garage, nearly hidden in a corner by the shadows of the garage, was a long low shape hidden by a vinyl car tarp. Now what does he have here?

  “Henry?” I asked, motioning to the form.

  He grinned ear to ear, like a damned child.

  “Oh that?” he asked, still grinning. “That’s my new baby. Somebody done left me a real sweet girl. All original, convertible, and just my shade of red.”

  “What is it, man?” I asked, growing only slightly impatient.

  “1967 Cadillac Coupe Deville. Convertible.” He beamed.

  I don’t know to this day if I groaned vocally, or inwardly, but it was there. Henry is a damn good man, damn reliable, damn smart, but he had his own… character. We’ll call it character.

  “But, as I was saying before,” he began, continuing the conversation that I hadn’t heard, “we need tools down here. All kinds. Maintenance done left me a good start, but you can never have enough. Fluids of all kinds, too. Oils, tranny and brake fluid, any fuel you can find. Matter of fact, my dear friend, if anyone here comes across some work trucks…”

  “Like those pickups you have right there?” I inquired.

  “Oh, no,” he corrected. “Work truck work trucks. Roadside repair, construction rigs, even railroad maintenance. They got generators, welders, tool sets, auxiliary fuel tanks, the works. They’d be perfect for our cause.”

  “Alright, yeah,” I agreed, his enthusiasm seeping into my own soul. “Yeah man we can look around for those. We’ll see about getting you some real lighting down here, too. See if we can’t find you your own solar and wind setup. That house can’t be the only one running something like that in this city.”

  Once again, like he was describing his ‘new’ Caddy, he beamed. This was one happy man.

  “Thank you! Thank you so much,” he exclaimed, clapping me on the back, then, “We’ll get things wrapped up here and get ready to head to that house. Same one we been looking at?”

  “One and the same, dude,” I told him. “Remember, be safe. I’m going up to see how the ladies have been doing on the indoors side of things.”

  Now it was Jennifer’s turn to exude pure pride at what they’d accomplished.

  “I think we did good.” She smiled.

  “Let’s go look.” I returned the grin, and, putting my hand in hers, walked up the ramp and back out into the sunlight, blinking as my eyes came into focus from the now brilliant sunlight.

  We crossed the driveway, and up onto the sidewalk. In through the still ruined front entrance, we made our way to the stairwell at the end of the long hallway. Jennifer, same as Henry, was talking about all they had accomplished, and, just the same as with him, I found my way back into my own thoughts. Thankfully, I was thinking smaller than the whole picture.

  We needed things for Henry, a good motor pool and happy mechanic could make or break our survival, especially when it comes to scavenging once the cold weather gets here. This is Ohio, after all. We can hover around one hundred degrees in the summer and drop down to well below negative zero in the winter. It can get downright nasty, and I for one am not in the least interested in going on runs on foot throughout the entire season.

  Jesus. Halfway up the stairs and I was already breathing heavy. Nine floors. Looks like it may be a good thing that cigars and cigarettes aren’t going to be manufactured any more.

  We reached the top of the final flight of stairs, and through the doorway to the ninth floor.

  Immediately the smell of dust and plaster assailed my sinuses, forcing out a sneeze.

  “Yeah, sorry,” Jennifer said apologetically. “We’re still cleaning up from the work we did today.”

  “Oh, that’s cool,” I replied, “let’s go check it out!”

  She led me down the hallway toward the central apartments, then, through the doorway.

  I was astounded at the amount of work they had already completed. I mean, it was as rough as a hangover, but, for the small amount of time they were on the job, they still did a lot. The wall between two apartments had been knocked out, making one large area with the space of the two living rooms that were now attached. Blackout curtains had been hung, then tucked up high to leave daylight to work by. A full wall had been layered with plywood and plastered with various flat screen TV’s from the other apartments, as well as a couple of nice-looking desktop computers. Office desks had been arrayed in front of the monitors to make work stations, with a couple of filing cabinets separating them.

  Another couple of tables had been arranged in the middle of the room, and on them lay an assortment of digital cameras, sign out sheets, and a bin with a number of various SD cards and batteries inside.

  Just then, Rob approached. He ran a hand through his dark hair and eyed the equipment.

  “You know, we found the entire complex to have security cameras,” he began.

  “Yeah?” I replied, what was he getting at? Did they catch something?

  “I can use the hard drive they feed to and wire up more,” he explained, “then we can wire them through these TV sets and set this up as a security room when we get the power ran. Well, I can, at least, with some help.”

  “Oh, shit that’s right,” I said, as it dawned on me, “computer guy. Man, we’re going to love you up here.”

  Rob smiled wanly and nodded his head, “Anything I can do to help, sir.”

  “Don’t call me sir, dude,” I said as pleasantly as I could. “I’ve kind of been shunted into this role, I’m just floating along and trying to do the best I can.”

  “I think you’re doing great,” Rob said, smiling again. Is he kissing my ass or just socially ungainly?

  “Thanks, Rob,” I said, smiling again, then, to the small group gathered around, “I’m going to drop down a floor and see what’s going on with our supply floor. Y’
all are doing great here, keep it up.”

  I left before I could receive any more awkward praise. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but I still don’t want the damned role of leader, or mayor, or governor or whatever they think I am. I’ll accept it, I guess, but it just doesn’t seem right to me. I guess, it kind of makes me uncomfortable.

  Forgetting all that, I walked down one flight of stairs to the eighth floor. As I crossed the threshold from the stairs to the hallway, I was met with a much different sight, though the same sinus killing scents filled the air. Right near the entrance to the stairwell, both apartment doors at that end of the hallway had been blocked off and shut by plywood sheeting that was screwed into the door frames. Maybe a half-dozen feet down from that, a steel office desk spanned most of the width of the hall. On it was a neatly sorted stack of papers, and a bin labeled ‘In’ and ‘Out’ with little hearts and smiley faces drawn by the words.

  I made my way past the narrow walkway left by the desk and moved further down the hallway, and my movements were quickly halted by footsteps and a voice.

  “Rob did you-Oh!” Bri exclaimed as she realized who had invaded her area. “Hi Scott! Come to see the progress?”

  “Yeah I figured I’d make my rounds now that I’m back for now,” I replied.

  “Did they have any issues getting the equipment?” she asked.

  I shrugged, “Don’t know. We came back early and left a good chunk of the crew there to finish up. Henry should be going to get them with the truck soon. Let’s see what you’ve got here while I wait.”

  Bri showed me around the floor, pointing things out in part like a tour guide, part like an overly excited home and garden show host exhibiting all the things they’d done while the home owner was ‘away’. Both sides of the hallway showed bathrooms ripped bare. There were also rough doorways cut between apartments, allowing free access amongst the goods, which were already being slowly slotted away in an order that, I’m sure, only Bri could find the rhyme and reason for.

  The door at the far end of the hallway had been blocked, covered with plywood, and reinforced, leaving only one way into and out of the floor. Christ, they were setting it up like a bank!