“Light. And a rope with a loop on the end of it. I should be able to reach the opening once I stand, but I’m still going to need something to brace my foot against.”
Ang nodded, then disappeared to retrieve the items.
Evans continued to lie still. He wasn’t going to move until he could see exactly where the snakes were around him.
When Ang returned, he wasn’t alone. Burt and Gerald both accompanied him, but they kept further back from the hole, concerned it might break open more, and Evans only knew that they were there because he heard their whispered voices.
“I’m lowering the rope,” Ang informed Evans. “I’ve wrapped it around one of the beams up here.”
Evans hoped the beam was stronger than the floor.
When the rope came down, a lantern had been tied to the end of it so that Evans could finally see. He told Ang to stop once it was low enough.
Moving his head as slowly as he could, Evans first looked toward the wall on his right. Nothing but stony dirt and wooden beams lay that way. Turning his head to then look left, he locked eyes with a rattler that was only three feet away. It lay there, coiled, its tail still. Moving his eyes, Evans located a few other snakes, but they weren’t nearly as close. A few even retreated further into the darkness where a bunch of pipes glinted against the far wall.
Keeping his eyes glued to the nearest rattlesnake, Evans moved his arms in toward his body, placing his hands on either side of his hips. As he started to rise, exerting a tremendous amount of strength from his core, the snake’s tail buzzed. Evans froze, his muscles locked yet slightly quivering.
“Do you need something else?” Ang asked from above. He could see and hear the snake. “Should I get Kathy and her javelin?”
“No,” Evans whispered back. He didn’t want to risk agitating any of the others any more than they already were.
After the tail had stopped for a few seconds, Evans continued to haul himself upright. Once he was in a sitting position, he took a short break. The rattler was no longer looking him dead in the face. Twisting in place, Evans made sure that there were no other snakes nearby which he had failed to see earlier. The only new one he spotted, was a rather large rattler that had had its head crushed by part of the falling rotted wood. Pinching its tail, Evans carefully drew the corpse toward him. Why waste meat?
As he drew his legs in, the rattlesnake buzzed again, its head pulling more tightly into its coils. Evans wished it would just retreat like its friends had, but apparently this was a stubborn snake. But patience would win out, and Evans had a lot of patience. Once the snake appeared to relax a little, Evans tucked his legs underneath him. He stood up fast, drawing forth a hiss this time, as well as a rattle from several snakes. Evans reached up and grabbed a floor beam at the edge of the hole. Ang had disappeared once he stood.
Glancing around the hole, Evans spotted a snake coming toward him. It was big, and it looked like it was on a mission as it travelled along the wall toward him. Not wanting to learn what that mission was, Evans jammed his foot into the loop and used it as a step while hauling with his arms. The foot in the loop suddenly rose up with him, as Gerald, Ang, and Burt hauled on the other end of the rope, and Evans popped up out of the hole. It was probably just his imagination, but he thought he heard a pair of small jaws snap behind him.
“I suggest we find a different place to sleep tonight,” Gerald recommended and the others agreed. After gathering up the rope and lantern, they retreated back outside, being careful where they stepped.
They travelled through the dark until they found a good farmhouse in which to camp. Evans cooked up the dead snake, and shared the small scraps of meat with everyone. He noticed that Gerald and Blue were ‘talking’ an awful lot.
The next morning, they were all up with the sun and moving once more. They weren’t far from their first stop, but as the day wore on, Evans didn’t like the look of the storm clouds rolling in. He did not want to get caught out in whatever weather they were bringing.
“Zombie,” seven-year-old Iris said from her position atop a camel. It was the loudest Evans had ever heard one of the silent ones speak.
“I’ll take care of it,” Dev whispered as he drew a machete.
“Wait,” Evans held out his arm to stop him.
The zombie was on the other side of a chest high rail fence, which had been reinforced. Its gaps were filled with chain link, chicken wire, and scraps of sheet metal. When the zombie reached the fence, it bumped into the barricade and snapped its jaws, but couldn’t get at them.
“Why are its hands tied to its waist?” Burt asked.
“So that it can’t climb over the fence,” Evans told him and everyone else who was listening. “We’ve reached the corral. See how its ear has been tagged?”
A bright piece of yellow plastic had been pierced through the rotting flesh. Some faded letters were scribbled on it in black marker.
“The corral?” Gerald wondered.
“It’s where they put the zombies of their loved ones. I’m a little surprised we haven’t come across a guard yet, although I suppose they’re all preparing for the storm. Come on, we have to keep moving. The zombies in the corral can’t hurt you, but feel free to kill any outside of it before we reach town.”
Evans wasn’t too keen on this community, mainly because of the smell, but as he glanced back at the dark mass consuming the sky, he was certainly glad to have made it.
17: Claire
7 Days After the Bombing
Bryce and Larson had opted to stay at their newly established base camp in the small convenience store in the apartment building, so that the others wouldn’t have to carry their packs. Rose had strapped on her homemade prosthetic, which she could use to push back any zombies that got too close. She didn’t wear it often because it was cumbersome, especially with a pack on. Claire walked with her knife in her hand, prepared for the worst.
The mannequins were just as Claire and Jon had seen them before. They were standing around in front of a store whose name didn’t at all help Claire identify what it might have once sold. The whole street consisted of various shops and restaurants, creating a sort of boundary between the residential and business sectors. As the group approached in a diamond shaped formation, they closely studied the storefronts they passed for any signs of movement within. Danny took the point position, with Jon covering their rear, leaving Claire and Rose in the middle and closest to the shops. They tried not to walk too near to one another, just in case this was some sort of trap.
When Danny reached the mannequins, he studied them all closely, making sure that they were all what they appeared to be from a distance. Satisfied, he wove between them to approach the store. Claire went around to the far side of the mannequins, watching Danny from where she pressed herself up against some brick siding that separated the unknown place from its mattress selling neighbour. Danny boldly approached the glass and peered inside.
“Hello?” he called out, tapping gently on the glass. “Is there anyone in there? We don’t mean you any harm. We saw the mannequins outside and decided to come take a look.”
Across the street, Jon stood within an alcove created by a recessed doorway, his eyes darting every which way.
“I can’t see anyone,” Danny eventually said. “I’m going in to take a look around.” He was talking louder than normal, not wanting to startle anyone who might be hiding.
Claire peeled away from her position and followed Danny to the door. Rose and Jon were going to remain outside, watching the street.
The door was unlocked, and opened relatively easily on its squeaking hinges. Based on the dust and dirt patterns around the entryway, someone had been in there before them. But how long ago?
“If there’s anyone in here, it’s better for both of us if you make yourself known,” Danny called out. “We don’t want any accidents. I have no plans to harm you or take your gear; I just want to know if anyone living is in the area.”
Only silence greeted his reque
st.
Claire went one way through the small store while Danny went the other. The shelving units were low enough that they could easily see one another over the tops of them. The place was full of useless knick-knacks, and one wall was lined with greeting cards. There might have been clothes there once, but those hooks were empty now. Claire and Danny kept pace with one another as they moved toward the back of the store, checking between the rows of shelves together. A few items littered the floor. Most looked like they had been knocked down when the clothing had been taken. Just when exactly that had happened, Claire couldn’t tell.
At the back of the store, was a counter with a register sitting on top. The register was open, and there were no signs of damage, so it was probably the store owner or an employee who thought to take the cash before the healthy were evacuated. A tray for lottery scratch tickets also stood empty. Beyond the counter was a door. Danny stepped through it, while Claire checked back over her shoulder. Despite knowing that they were mannequins and even though she was able to see them clearly, the plastic figures still freaked her out.
Squeezing in behind Danny, Claire soon found that there wasn’t much to report. A single tiny bathroom which was cleared with a single sweep of a flashlight, and a little storeroom containing a single box of snow globes were all that were back there. Claire and Danny beat a hasty retreat back outside, regrouping with Jon and Rose a little way up the street.
“Place was empty,” Danny reported. “I didn’t even find anything that suggested recent habitation.”
“I noticed something,” Claire spoke up. It had just dawned on her. “The mannequins. They could be seen quite clearly from inside. There was no way someone would mistake them for anything else the way we did. Not unless it was a really dark night.”
“So why are they there then?” Jon wondered out loud.
“Whatever the reason, we should probably head back to camp,” Rose recommended. “Those things could’ve just been abandoned there, and we got a job to do.”
“I also think that we don’t want to be out here once it gets dark,” Danny added. “We’ll finish setting up camp, and then check on the mannequins in the morning. If they’re still there, then great.”
“And if they’ve been moved?” Claire asked.
“Then we watch each others’ backs a lot more closely,” Jon answered.
In the same formation in which they approached the mannequins, they returned to the apartment building and their temporary camp. Bryce and Larson had no new ideas about the mysterious mannequins after being filled in on what was found.
By working together, they were able to quickly secure the convenience store, and make it almost comfortable. Knowing they’d be there for a while, they could leave some of their gear unpacked, as well as the items taken from the house. Claire was happy she wouldn’t have to hunt through her bag each morning for the bar of soap she used as deodorant. Her hair was kept in a braid, but she had brought her brush in the hopes that maybe there’d be time to bathe. With the river not terribly far, the chances seemed good. Even the boys would want to clean themselves up eventually.
Not having to worry about water for the time being, they drank as much as they wanted, which helped offset the lack of food. Another round of guard duty was assigned, although they thought if nothing happened the first night, then maybe they wouldn’t need guards the second. They had secured the shop’s door to the apartment building so that it could only be opened from their side, and anyone trying to get in from outside, would have to push past a wire rack; there was no way to do that silently. They had tested it. Broken windows they would also hear, and the bars over them meant no one was coming in that way. Really, the only reasons they decided on guard duty that first night was for peace of mind, and to watch for anyone who might be creeping around in the dark with some mannequins. Claire took the first shift, and saw nothing. No people, no zombies, not even a bat fluttering through the darkness. Her exhaustion afterward made her fall asleep surprisingly quickly. It was a light sleep that had her waking up with every shift change.
***
Bryce and Larson had agreed to stay at the base camp again and get breakfast ready, while the other four went to check on the mannequins.
“Are there fewer today than there were yesterday?” Rose wondered as they looked at the figures.
“I can’t tell. I didn’t count them yesterday,” Danny admitted. It seemed no one had.
“I don’t see any obvious gaps,” Claire pointed out.
“Someone hand me a knife,” Rose demanded.
Claire was closest, so she handed over hers. Rose went up to the nearest mannequin and attacked its head with the knife. She carved a deep number one into the back of it. Satisfied, she then moved on to carve a number two into the next one. Getting the point, Danny and Jon moved in to help. With her knife in Rose’s hand, Claire didn’t have anything with which to help, so she simply stood guard.
“There’s twenty-five of the cunts,” Rose growled when they had finished. “A nice easy number to remember.”
The carved marks were jagged and not always easy to read, but that was fine. The point was that they could now tell if any of them went missing.
After returning to the apartment building, they had breakfast and decided on the teams. Rose and Danny were going to stay put, watching over their stuff, getting more water, and attempting to hunt, while the other four were going to start searching the parking garage.
“Take everything out of your pack,” Jon advised Claire. “I doubt we’ll find much, but just in case, we want as much room for carrying as possible.”
Claire did as she was told.
“Too bad we don’t have any shopping carts,” Bryce lamented as they got ready.
“Would you really want to haul one up the stairs?” Larson retorted.
“It’s just one set of stairs; we can use the car ramps the rest of the time.”
“We’ll properly investigate the laundry room and storage room first,” Jon decided. “There might be something in there that we can use.”
There wasn’t much in the laundry room, but they took all they could, disturbing the dust as they searched inside and underneath all the machines. The best find was a netted laundry bag, but they also came across several lost dryer sheets, some coins, a couple of paper clips and rubber bands, one sheet of laminated paper, and one thumbtack. Some items were useful just as they were. Others could be modified or melted down for different purposes.
They stopped at the office before going to the storage room, hoping to find keys. They had no such luck, but they did find some more stationery which they brought back to pile in a corner of the convenience store. They also found a small, foldable dolly tucked away in a corner.
“Excellent!” Bryce was very pleased with the find. “We can use this to move car batteries.”
The storage room came next. Someone had been there before them; they had managed to pry down the corners of some of the metal wire doors. For one reason or another, they had given up after breaking into only three of the cages that held people’s extra belongings. Jon, Bryce, and Larson had a better way of getting into the cages: a bolt cutter.
“Stay close,” Jon said to Claire. “I’m sure you know the kind of stuff we want to bring back, but if you’re confused about anything, let me know.”
It was strange, going through other people’s things. In the first cage that Claire was assigned, the space was dominated by a large couch. Why was there a couch in there? Why wasn’t it in the apartment? Was it too big? But then why would they have bought it? Had they been forced to downsize from a larger place? Claire couldn’t help but wonder about the couch. When she came across a snowboard, it made sense to her that it would be stashed down here. Snowboards weren’t often needed in Texas, at least not around these parts. But a couch had plenty of purposes. Surely the owners could have found a buyer for it if they no longer wanted it. To Claire’s mind, in which a paperclip was also a bookmark, a hair cli
p, wiring for a simple light, and even a small aerial booster, the abandonment of a whole couch was ludicrous.
“Grab the cushions,” Jon told her, when she spoke aloud her bafflement. “We can sleep on them, and maybe use the covers as bags when we leave.”
Claire removed the couch’s cushions and placed them by the stairs.
The whole storage room was a treasure-trove of materials. Larson, however, found the best stash, surrounded by a bunch of gardening supplies: a dresser drawer full of seed packets. The seeds could very well be dead, and many of them were flowers instead of vegetables. They wouldn’t know if they were still viable until they planted them.
It took the rest of the morning to go through the cluttered storage room. They found another dolly, one with a fixed frame this time, and immediately put it to use. A stolen shopping cart was also located but the wheels barely turned, and squealed horribly when they did, so they left it. Everything that was of immediate use, or that might come home with them, was brought up to the convenience store. They moved supplies they might return for into the cages closest to the doors, including the stationery. Totally useless items were heaped in the farthest cages.
“I don’t like the look of those clouds,” Danny commented when Claire and the others stopped at camp for a late lunch. Rose had gotten lucky and snagged an armadillo that they cooked up.
They couldn’t see the storm clouds from inside—the windows faced the wrong way—but Claire had stepped out to take a look. She found herself instantly agreeing with Danny. The black mass taking over the southern sky felt threatening.
“We’ll be all right,” Jon told her. “We’re in a secure building that was built to withstand some pretty brutal storms.”
“It’s the container yard I’m worried about,” Claire admitted.
“They’ll be okay. We’ve ridden out some pretty serious storms there. And remember, they shouldn’t be totally exposed to the storm surge. Do you remember when we first arrived there on the boats? There was a long chunk of land we went around before entering the bay. I think that land tends to take the power out of the storm surge, which is really the most dangerous part.”
Survival Instinct (Book 5): Social Instinct Page 26