In fact, only a handful of elected officials made it out of Washington alive. The continuity of government was guaranteed by the Vice President and those Congressmen who were not in the city during the outbreak and who were able to make their way to Colorado.
The same took place around the world, with people evacuating overcrowded metropolitan areas for the relative safety of less populated ones, whether it be the fly-over states of the mid-West, the Latin American rain forests, the jungles of Africa, or the unforgiving deserts of the Middle East. Media outlets lost contact with India on day five, China and continental Europe on day six, and most of the rest of the world on day seven. Governments collapsed or were overrun; in a few sad cases, the leadership abandoned the people and made their way to safety, hoping to survive at the expense of the populace. Coverage of the outbreak rapidly devolved into the spreading of rumors and incorrect information because the situation changed so fast no one could verify it. One by one, the major media news outlets went off the air, with CNN being the last to broadcast. A few local television stations around the world stayed on the air, as well as a handful of radio stations; by day eleven, the airwaves had gone silent.
We did get one tidbit of useful information from the daily government briefings from federal and state officials. Amid updates on the situation, one Pentagon official noted that traditional headshots against the deaders are ineffective since the cerebrum is not the portion that is reanimated and drives the living dead but the primordial portion, the hypothalamus, hippocampus, and amygdala. A shot to the forehead won’t destroy the living dead, only a wound to the portion above the brain stem will bring one down. That explains why many of the headshots we inflicted on the deaders did not work.
No one has ever expressed this openly, but I think we all realize how lucky we are to have made it here safely, especially after watching the news. There are three other cabins within a five-mile radius of mine. Nathan and I checked on them last week, hoping some of our neighbors also made it to safety, but they were unoccupied. The view from the mountain top shows no sign of life as far as we can see.
On the plus side, everyone here has settled in. The gunshot wound in Steve’s hand did not become infected, thank God, and has been healing nicely, although he’ll have limited mobility in his fingers. He is doing what he can to help but, for the most part, is taking it easy and allowing the wound to heal. Nathan, on the other hand, has not rested since we got here. The first few days he checked out every gun, cleaning them and making certain they were operable, then went through our supplies, inventorying everything. After that, he spent a few days walking around the woods, searching for places to set up traps or build defenses. Now he’s teaching me and Miriam how to handle and clean the weapons, although we’ve not actually been able to live fire them since we don’t want to tip off anyone, especially the deaders, where we are. At least we’re better prepared to use them than when we first arrived.
Even Kiera and Little Stevie have received training in how to use a weapon, though I doubt Miriam will allow them to shoot live ammo for quite a while. Nathan agreed to train the kids to keep them busy. By the end of the second week, they had both played through the video games he had gotten for them two or three times and all the television stations had gone off the air, so they were bored. Nathan has also been taking them on his checks of the perimeter, teaching them basic survival techniques such as how to get back to the cabin if they are lost, how to detect if something has been in the area, and other life-saving skills. Nathan calls Stevie his little deader hunting buddy.
One very unusual thing about this winter has been the weather. I had expected that we’d get snow by now being the mountains. In fact, we were hoping for it because deep snow would slow down the deaders, making it difficult for any of them to sneak up on us. Yet, it’s the middle of January, and we have not even seen a dusting. To make matters worse, it’s been bitterly cold—the temperature has not gone above thirty degrees in five weeks—and dry. If we do any strenuous work outside, we must drink plenty of water to prevent us developing a heavy, dry cough.
Alissa placed down the pen and flexed her fingers. She had been writing for over an hour and her hand ached. She had no idea how professional writers could do this all day every day, but admired them for it. Standing and stretching, she crossed the dining area to the kitchen, poured herself a fresh cup of hot coffee, and went back into the living room. Sunlight streamed through the porch windows, with Archer stretched out in the center of the beam. She strolled over and crouched, petting his exposed belly. His fur felt warm from the sun. He mewled, rolled over, and clutched her hand between his front paws, licking the knuckles. After a few seconds, Archer mewled again, rolled onto his legs, and took over across the cabin, bounding up the stairs.
Taking his place, Alissa stood in front of the porch windows, basking in the sun’s warmth. Sometimes she admired Archer. He had all the comforts of life with none of the hassles, although you would never know it by the way he complained all the time. That’s why he was an asshat. She still loved him.
Opening the French doors, Alissa stepped out onto the porch. The outdoor thermometer registered twenty-eight degrees but, in the afternoon sunshine, it did not feel that cold. She closed the door behind her and crossed to the railing. The view was gorgeous and the main reason her and Paul chose this cabin. The mountain gently sloped down. From here, she could see Route 302 wind its way through the valley, passing by Bretton Woods and the Omni Mt. Washington ski resort. In the background, the White Mountain range dominated the horizon. Enough pine trees covered the slopes that swarths of green still colored the mountain range. She also enjoyed the serenity. None of the sounds of an industrialized society made their way up this far, only the chirping of birds and, at night, the call of wildlife. No crowds. No pollution. No traffic. She and Paul had always fantasized about spending the rest of their lives up here. Ironically, she might.
Nathan slid open the glass doors and joined her, with Archer sneaking out behind him. The cat jumped onto the railing and made his way to his mistress, beating Nathan by a few seconds. He rubbed his head against Alissa and purred. She petted his head. Archer closed his eyes and purred louder.
“Can I join you?” asked Nathan.
She motioned to Archer. “You can if he’ll let you.”
Nathan zipped up his coat halfway. “I see why you like it here so much. It’s beautiful. And peaceful.”
“And, at the moment, one of the few safe places around.”
“That’s a plus.”
Archer spun around on the railing, swishing his tail against Alissa in the process. When he settled down again, she continued petting.
“Have you been this far north?”
Nathan shook his head. “No. I’ve always been the beach type. I usually went on vacation to the Cape and Martha’s Vineyard. To be honest, I wished I had come up sooner. I like it here. Of course, the company helps.”
Alissa felt her cheeks flush and said nothing, concentrating on petting Archer.
The door opened again. Miriam stepped out wearing a sweater. Upon seeing Alissa’s expression, she hesitated. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” answered Nathan as he waved her over.
Miriam moved along side of them, slipping her hands inside the wide wool sleeves of the sweater. She sniffed.
“Isn’t mountain air beautiful?” asked Alissa.
“It is,” said Miriam. “Though I will miss the salty smell of the ocean.”
Nathan nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll be a long time before we get home.”
Miriam sniffed again. This time she squinted. “Do I smell a forest fire?”
Alissa smelled the air. “That’s not a forest fire. Somebody’s burning wood in a fireplace.”
Nathan scanned the area then pointed over the roof of the cabin, “It’s there.”
A small column of grayish-white smoke swirled skyward, dissipating the farther it climbed into the atmosphere.
&n
bsp; “We have company,” said Nathan.
“Where’s it coming from?” asked Miriam.
“The only cabin in that direction belongs to the Hendersons.” Alissa nudged Nathan. “When did you last check it out?”
“Seven to ten days ago. The cabin hadn’t been lived in.”
“Then we have ourselves a new neighbor,” said Miriam.
Nathan smirked. “We should pay them a visit and see if they’re friendly.”
Chapter Eleven
Alissa and Nathan closed in on the Hendersons’ cabin from its right flank, using the woods on the downward slope as cover. Nathan opted for a flank approach to lessen their chances of being detected while simultaneously being able to cover the front door if the person or persons occupying the cabin opted to flee. Miriam moved around to the opposite side to cover the rear if anyone attempted to sneak out and outflank Alissa and Nathan. Steve stayed home to protect the kids. The group had driven the Land Rover to the other side of the mountain and approached up the northern slope to ensure that those inside the Hendersons’ place, if they were hostile, could not easily trace them back to their own cabin.
One hundred feet from the cabin, and approximately fifty feet from the tree line, Nathan stopped and crouched, using a tree for cover, and motioned for Alissa to do the same. “What can you see?”
Alissa raised the binoculars and scanned the area. Smoke still poured from the chimney. She concentrated on the windows, hoping to see inside. Burning logs filled the fireplace. The floor lamp by the recliner near the front window was on and a glass of liquid sat on the end table. A hand reached over, picked up the glass, and drank from it. One of the chairs around the dining room table moved although she did not see anyone there.
“There’s at least two people inside, but I can’t get a good view of them. One of them is male.”
“Any weapons?”
“None that are visible.”
“What do you see outside?”
Alissa studied the area out in front of the cabin. No vehicles sat out front, not even a bicycle, though that did not mean it had not been parked farther down the access road. She saw no signs of booby traps or an ambush. The only things out of place were a large pillow tossed on the front porch and cigar butts in an ashtray by the chair as well as a piece of cardboard covering the windowpane near the interior lock, which explained how he/they got in.
“Nothing out front is suspicious.”
Nathan removed the radio from his jacket pocket, keyed the talk button, and softly asked, “Miriam, can you hear me?”
A moment passed. “Loud and clear.”
“You see anything unusual out back?”
“Not a thing.”
“Good. We’re going in to check and see who’s there. Hopefully, everything will work out fine. If the situation goes south, head back to the cabin with Steve and your kids.”
“I’m not leaving you two behind.”
“We can take care of ourselves. We’ll buy you time so you can get to safety.”
“Okay,” Miriam replied with a reluctant tone. “Be careful.”
“Roger that.” Nathan slipped the radio back in his pocket. “Are you ready?”
“I should go alone.”
Nathan shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“There’s no indication these people are dangerous. We might spook them if we both go down there armed. Besides, you can cover me and save my ass if something goes wrong.”
“I’m good at that.”
Alissa flashed him a look part flirtatious, part annoyed. She circled around behind Nathan, moved three hundred feet down the slope, then emerged onto the access road and approached the cabin. She unslung the Mossberg from her shoulder and draped the strap across the back of her neck, allowing the weapon to sit across her chest, holding it in a non-threatening fashion. She walked in the middle of the access road to be easily seen. When a hundred or so feet from the cabin, a dog began barking from inside.
Alissa stopped. “Hello?”
She heard movement from inside the cabin. This was a dumb idea.
“Is anyone there?”
The door opened a few inches. The dog whimpered. A male voice called out. “That’s close enough.”
Alissa removed her hands from the shotgun. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes. I saw the smoke and wanted to see what’s up. I haven’t seen another living person in weeks.”
“Place your weapon on the ground and come forward so I can see you.”
“Is that necessary? I don’t know who you are.”
“Same here, hon. So, either lay down your weapon so we can chat or you’re free to continue on your way.”
“Have it your way.” Alissa held the Mossberg by the barrel and the stock, lifted it over her head so the strap came off her neck, then crouched to place it on the ground. She stood up and took several steps back. “Done.”
The door opened all the way and a man stood in the center of the jamb. He held an AK-47 pointed in her direction but aimed at the ground in front of her. “What’s your name, hon?”
“Alissa. What’s yours?”
“Chris.”
“As you can see, Chris, I don’t pose much of a threat.”
He studied her for a moment and lowered the barrel of his semi-automatic. “Grab your weapon and come on in. You can warm up by—”
The next few seconds happened so fast Alissa almost missed them. As she bent over to retrieve her Mossberg, a barking came from inside the house. A German Shepard raced onto the front porch, barking at Alissa but not rushing to attack. She froze, showing the dog she posed no threat. Chris leaned out and grabbed the dog’s collar with his left hand. As he did, his right inadvertently raised the AK-47 in her direction. A shot rang out as Chris pulled the dog back into the cabin, missing his head by inches and tearing a chunk of wood out of the door jamb. Chris yanked the dog back inside as he swung to his left, spraying the woods near Nathan with gunfire. Chris used the second-long distraction to slide prone to the floor inside the cabin and site in one Alissa, who stood dumbfounded in the center of the access road.
“You lied to me, bitch.”
“Sorry.” Alissa stared at the muzzle of the Russian weapon pointed directly at her. “We didn’t know if we could trust you.”
“Like I trust you now?”
Alissa tried to speak but Chris cut her off. “Tell whoever is in the woods to drop his weapon and come out where I can see them or I’m taking you out.”
“Nathan?”
“I heard,” he yelled from his hiding place. “No way I’m giving up my position and giving him the upper hand. He’s got you in his sights.”
“Hey, asshole,” yelled Chris. “I’m not the one who fired first. Show yourself or your girlfriend gets it.”
Nothing happened for several seconds.
“Buddy, your time is running short.” To emphasize his point, Chris focused his aim on Alissa.
“Do as he says,” called out Alissa. “I don’t think he’ll shoot us.”
“I hope you’re right.” Nathan emerged from behind his cover. He laid his weapon against the tree and, with his hands above his head, cautiously made his way to Alissa, moving alongside her.
“How many of you are there?” asked Chris.
“Just the two of us.” Alissa spoke too quickly.
“I fell for that once.” Chris raised his AK-47 and aimed it at Nathan. “How many of you are there?”
“Three. Now drop your weapon.”
Miriam stood at the right corner of the cabin, her Mossberg pointed at Chris. During the commotion out front, she had snuck up from the rear and gotten the drop on him. To his credit, Chris did not flinch. He kept his aim fixed on Nathan.
Miriam took several steps toward Chris, stopping five feet from him. “I said drop your weapon.”
With his right thumb, he switched the weapon from single shot to semi-automatic mode. “Shoo
t me and there’s a good chance one or both of them will die.”
“Take the shot,” ordered Nathan.
Chris’ finger tightened on the trigger. “Stand down if you want your friends to live.”
“The odds are against you, so lower your weapon. Now.”
Alissa glanced down at her shotgun, calculating whether she could retrieve it and fire back before Chris gunned her down. She felt certain Nathan made the same calculations.
The German Shepard burst through the cabin door, pausing by Chris. Seeing Miriam holding a gun against his master, he started barking. Miriam switched her aim to the dog, giving Chris the advantage.
He did not take it.
“I give up.” Chris raised the AK-47 above his head and tossed it off the porch. With his right hand, he reached down and grabbed the dog’s collar.
Nathan picked up Alissa’s Mossberg and aimed it at Chris.
Chris raised his left hand in surrender while still clutching the collar. “Don’t kill Shithead.”
“Shithead?” asked Alissa.
“My dog.” Chris crouched and wrapped his arm around the Shepard, which calmed him down.
“I know who you mean.” Alissa suppressed a smile. “But Shithead?”
“Yeah.”
Miriam lowered the Mossberg a few inches. “Why Shithead?”
“Well,” Chris scratched the dog behind his ears. “He is a bit of a shithead.”
Alissa unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh. Miriam joined in a moment later. Nathan looked between the two as if they were crazy. As he began to aim, Alissa placed her hand on the barrel. She knelt on the access road.
Nurse Alissa vs. the Zombies (Book 2): Escape Page 9