by Woods, Shane
“Yeah, I did. Hey guys,” I said, “I need you to pull four experienced scavengers and eight new people off work crews, I’m sending out more short-range scouts tomorrow.”
“You expecting something?” James questioned.
“Nah man,” I explained. “All I’m expecting is to be prepared. I want to scavenge as much as we can now before the real weather starts in a couple of months. So, we’re gonna hit shit twice as hard.”
“Works for me man,” Rich joined in. “Is that all?”
“Nope,” I smiled. “You’re also going to pull in Dave and three more. You’re on our team. We leave at sunup.”
Smiles and excitement came from Rich and James as they departed. I could, however, almost physically feel my wife’s stare as I turned to face her.
“You know I don’t like you going out on runs,” she stated firmly.
“I literally just got back from hunting alone, I think your priorities for worry are skewed a bit, woman,” I joked.
“Yeah,” she started, “where you’re mostly hidden inside a vehicle that’s built for it. Just, just be careful Scott. You know I worry.”
“Somebody’s got to,” I stated, giving her a kiss before turning away. “But I’ve got a job to do. I wouldn’t send these guys and girls out if I wouldn’t do it myself.”
“If you get hurt, I’m going to kick your ass!” she called to my back.
“If there’s any of it left to kick!” I replied, jumping with a start as a flip flop sailed past my head.
Leaving the rooftop with haste, I went down to check on the armory Rich had been constructing. He told me the night before he considered it finished, thanks to the work detail I broke off for his purposes. I was excited to see it. According to him, all it needed was that ‘lived-in’ touch to feel like home for him.
I made my way down the stairs, nodding to the occasional person as I passed them. It was much easier to go down these steps than it was to go up them, that’s for sure.
Stepping out of the newly built front entrance and into the spotty sunlight, I made my way to where the swimming pool had resided, nestled between a pair of driveways heading back to the parking lot.
The iron security fence had been removed, and the pool had long since been drained. The drain had then been wedged open to keep the floor dry and hopefully keep moisture from building up.
I walked down the short flight of stairs that had been dug out. The pool was a seven-foot deep affair and provided plenty of room when empty. A slightly raised sub-floor had been put in and then covered with thick plywood. The pool was in-ground, but additional walls around the perimeter added another four feet in height and were made of double layer cinder blocks packed with ready-mix concrete and capped by a peaked roof and shingled in like a standard house. It was a veritable bunker and built like that for a purpose. By Rich’s logic, if anything he were working on in this armory were to ‘go boom’, the danger to anyone else would be directed upwards.
The interior was lit by scavenged LED lighting systems. These provided tons of illumination and drew minimal power from our little grid. They’d become standard as we found more lighting setups, and the goal was to eventually replace everything that lit up with LEDs and direct the power to other functions that drew more.
The entry stairwell dropped down into a short wide corridor of sorts. The wall was lined with seating on one side, the other side consisting of a steel door with a security window. The rest of this length looked to be a textbook armory window, a counter mostly protected and hidden with chain link save for a gap tall and wide enough to pass gear through. Rich was serious about tracking the gear, and utilizing the rest of the space for building things and living in. And damn he was good. The guy blew up most of the gang members’ compound just weeks prior, full Oklahoma City-style with a truck and large fertilizer bomb.
“Hey Scott,” he called as I entered, “what do you think?”
“I think you’re an insane mad scientist and you scare me a little bit,” I described, “and this is definitely a perfect spot for you to do your thing. Is it secure though?”
“Touch the fence,” he directed as he flipped a switch on the wall by his bed.
I was expecting maybe an alarm, on the extreme side maybe another grate to drop and seal it off or something.
What I wasn’t expecting was the instant blinding pain that overtook my entire arm before being replaced with a numb tingling. I wasn’t expecting the crackle as electricity arced into my hand and singed the flesh across the back of my hand. I shouted and jumped back as Rich’s insane giggle filled the space.
“What the fuck, dude?” I asked angrily. “You could have just told me. Or showed me! What the fuck?”
“This was more fun!” Rich admitted as he continued laughing. “Here, check it out, door’s powered, too.”
He flipped the first switch off and interacted with another one next to it. A solid snick issued from the door and it swung open just an inch before it clicked again, and a deadbolt bar extended from the edge.
“James set it up,” he explained. “Check this out!”
He motioned to a hatch near his bed, which he reached for and swung open as I approached. I peered in and saw a bank of car batteries and a couple of black boxes anchored in place. He talked excitedly as he explained about the capacitors and how much power could be directed to just the fence alone, or it could all be used for backup power if the main grid went down.
“And check the floor in front of the counter on your way out,” he instructed. “We had grounding issues with the fence, so it’s got a shit load more nails than it needs; the extras are wired together and grounded below. You touch the fence and it completes the circuit, even with your boots on, and ZAP!”
We continued talking and hanging out through the day. Apparently, James had put a lot of work in down here for Rich, even running ventilation and getting the area ready to be heated electrically during the cold weather so there’s no open flames. Considering Rich had probably a ton or two of ammo, powder, and explosives down here, that made a lot of sense to me.
Two of the mortar tubes we’d found before had been mounted on the far end, the tubes sticking through the rooftop. Rich informed me they were set to go off by trigger and contained illumination flares. Just in case, he stated assuredly.
As the day neared a close, we all met as per usual on the rooftop. It was our informal area to meet and share a meal at the end of every day. This high up, with this many solid doors and stairs between us and the outside world, we felt totally safe and secure. It boosted morale to have everyone together and sharing a meal and a laugh.
It felt safe, at least, up until Tony was shot. We had just liberated a ton of people from the hands of some real bad people. We were getting to know each other, the old and the new, and out of nowhere, one of my best friends on the planet fell to a single gunshot. None came after, and nothing since, but there he lay, spraying fluid across the rooftop every time he tried to exhale the air and blood from his lungs.
Shannon, Ashley, and Jennifer worked quickly and diligently and yet he still almost didn’t make it. They got the lung to reflate but couldn’t stop the bleeding. Even with their combined knowledge and skills it was touch and go. So much so that as they worked, Jennifer read out loud from medical books and coached like they were working on a class project.
They managed to keep him stable, but just barely. I was scared to death and didn’t leave his vicinity for those first several days.
We didn’t feel safe any longer, not even on the rooftop, and had used everything we could to build a wall of solar panels and more plywood scavenged from homes we were deconstructing. It still didn’t feel totally secure, but it eliminated anyone being targeted. Can’t hit what you can’t see.
After a while the crowd had begun to peter out, leaving less and less of us until Jennifer and I decided to gather Gwen and head to bed ourselves.
I was again so worn out I scarcely remembered laying dow
n before I was fast asleep.
THREE
My morning came quickly. Never one to take long to wake up fully, I was dressed, prepped, and waiting nearby a crew cab pickup as others trickled in.
There were four teams today instead of one, about six people each as opposed to ten on one crew.
The other teams already started to filter out of the compound as we loaded up our vehicle and checked our ICOMs before climbing in the truck and departing.
The truck was a standard crew-cab Ford that was then reinforced with chain link fencing bolted to the windows. Henry then reinforced the vehicle in other ways, such as welding and boxing various points across the body and frame. The truck was a tank to begin with and now felt like that much more of one now.
Locked into the vehicle, we headed out through the inner gate, then waited behind Clara’s team as they departed the outer gate.
Clara and Frank were a couple, with a son and a daughter between them. They’d lived for a while locked in their apartment in the South Building, even after we’d begun making the place home. It was basically a rescue getting them out of there, but they’d been as vital to us as anyone else. Frank was a bit slow but came into his own. Clara was a tough little ball of lightning since day one, and she’d always handled the work put in front of her with aplomb, whether it be building, scavenging, or killing.
A beat later and they cleared the outer gate, which closed and allowed the inner to open for us.
We passed through the gate and Dave spoke up.
“Got me my tea!” he announced, holding up a large bottle of Arizona iced tea, “and it’s mine. Not sharing!”
Dave was always a handful. Another of my long-time buddies, much like Tony. I wouldn’t trade the world for either of them. Dave had a fire in him. A definitive dickhead with a true heart of gold, and truly one of a kind. There were few in the word I’d rather have on my side than him.
“Yeah?” I replied. “Well don’t chug it, we aren’t stopping for you to use the ladies room dude.”
“It’ll be alright,” he assured, clapping me on the shoulder. “Where we going?”
“I figured I’d take you kids to the movies,” I chided. “Maybe go see that horror flick your mother didn’t want you to see.”
“Sweet!” Dave replied, the others chuckling. “We going to see some titties?”
“Now you know you should cover your eyes for those parts,” I laughed. “You’re impressionable.”
“Fuck that,” Dave called back. “I’m in it for some fuckin’ titties. And ass.”
“You got Bri, don’t ya?” I picked as I watched his face change like I let a secret out. “Anyway, we’re gonna check the south, over by the school we blew up. Lot of decent houses over there, lot of businesses too.”
“We should hit a hardware store sometime soon,” James advised. “Shit went down during the warm part of the year. With luck, most of these people didn’t think far enough ahead to grab space heaters, garage heaters, plumbing. I need more electrical. Oh, and Rich told me to keep my eyes open for stump remover? I don’t know.”
“Powdered sugar, too. And lots of PVC pipe,” Rich’s gravelly voice added.
“Yeah, that too,” James added. “Not even going to ask. I’ve got so much of my own work still to focus on it’s ridiculous.”
“You been kicking ass for us, James,” I awarded. “You know if you want to chill for a few days you can go on vacation.”
“Can’t do it man,” he stated. “I stop working, my shit doesn’t get finished. I been teaching Cody as I can, but we’re talking a lifetime of knowledge…”
James chuckled and we conversed until Rich pulled the truck down one street and pulled up to a house near the dead center of the neighborhood.
We worked throughout the morning without much worry. The area was eerily quiet. Mention was made of the solitude, but no solutions could be found. We hadn’t scavenged and cleansed this far south yet, we should have been dealing with much more infected.
We reached the ninth house of the day and approached it as we always did. Looked from afar for signs of life, and when we saw none, we stacked up six deep on the front door and breached it.
I went left, Dave and Rich hot on my heels as we cleared corners. James broke right with a pair of the high schoolers, two late teens named Jimmy and Korin in tow.
We moved briskly through a living room littered with baby toys. A smattering of stuffed animals and brightly colored objects littering the floor, a soft pink blanket laid out as a playmat.
Moving into then through a basic dining room, we quickly stacked to each side of a door on one wall. Breaching that, we moved into a garage occupied by only one car, called it all out as clear and moved back into the house.
“Scott!” James’s hushed voice came. “We got something!”
We followed the sound of his voice into a large kitchen with a pantry and half bathroom off to one side. On the far side, behind an island occupying the center of the kitchen, James and company stood looking down at something on the floor.
As I moved to view what they saw, a pair of feet appeared on the floor. One bare, one covered in a patent leather shoe. The black of old, dried, infected blood was smeared throughout the area and around what seemed to be an old grey corpse dressed in a tattered and long-soiled grey business suit. The once well-fitted watch hanging loosely on an emaciated wrist as it lay in place on the floor.
“What the fuck is this, man?” I inquired. “It’s a body. A corpse. I know this isn’t your first-”
I let my sentence fall short as the corpse’s head spasmed and jerked to face my direction.
The jaw slowly worked, and the dry raisin-skinned arms made an effort to turn the body and move to me. I took a reflexive step back, garnering protesting voices as I backed into Dave and Rich.
But the mummified freak stayed in place despite its best feeble efforts. The large torn open section centered in the lower back seemed to be heavy damage from a previous encounter with the living. The aged and encrusted bodily fluids of all likely types sticking it to the smooth linoleum like a glue. It was going nowhere. A dusty croak crept out of its mouth as it continued in vain to snack on me.
“What’s your name?” I asked, eyeing the tall dark-haired girl by James.
“K-Korin,” she said, her face drained of all color.
“You ever killed one of these up close?” I inquired.
“No,” she replied, her voice wavering. “No, I haven’t.”
“Good,” I replied. “No time like the present to learn. No gunshots unless we have to. It’s been here a while. We don’t know if there’s a mind in there behind the monster that’s suffering. And, it presents a threat still. Kill it.”
“What?” she nearly chirped. “Kill it?”
“Yeah,” I said, firm as stone. “Your boot should do. It’s weak. One good stomp.”
“Scott,” James said, defending the girl. “It’s a bit much.”
“If she doesn’t do it when it’s easy,” I observed, “she’ll freeze when it’s difficult. Stomp it.”
“I can’t,” she said, grabbing the boy’s hand. “I just- ”
“Do it,” I growled, “or I’ll have you left here until you do.”
She traded a look with the other high schooler and got a sigh of resignation followed by a nod from James, who actually turned his head away. She took one last pleading look at me, and before she could protest, I unsnapped the holster clasp for my pistol. I’d have never gone that far, to hold her at gunpoint, but that unspoken intention was the last push it took for her.
She let out a grunt as she brought her foot down firmly on the head of the freak. She followed with a whimper as her foot slipped on the smooth grey flesh and almost took her balance, but the girl righted herself and gave it one more.
The skull gave way like a calcified eggshell and began oozing grey matter and blood that seemed impossibly thick, and the monstrosity fell limp.
With the thud of
her foot and the collective exhale from the group came another thud. This one came from above us. We all froze and looked up at the ceiling. The thud was shortly followed by several softer bumps, a thud, and then silence.
I motioned for all to be silent as I brought my shotgun to low ready and looked around. I clicked on the mounted weapon light, thankful for the extra help in the mostly shadowy home.
In the flood of light coming from my 870 tactical, I saw several large blackened streaks leading away from our new friend. Motioning the others to follow me, I followed the trail. The streaks led out of the kitchen and to an old dried puddle at the bottom of the stairway for the upstairs.
Each step bore its own markings of the freak’s trespass. I followed them to the top and caught sight of the scene we were entering. The upstairs hallway was peppered with dozens of small holes from what appeared to be buckshot. Following the pattern, they seemed to have, at least in part, come from the bedroom at the far end, where a much smaller pattern was visible in the center of the door positioned dead at the other end of the hallway.
We stacked three to a side on the door, pressed firm against the wall and low, lowering our profile as Tony had taught and the rest passed on for others to learn. In the front, I tried the handle.
Locked.
So, I did the next most logical thing I could. I knocked. Once, twice, three times.
The response was the last thing I ever expected.
A soft, very young whimper responded, followed by a cry. No, not the telltale ear-piercing shriek we expected, but an actual cry. A cry cry. A baby’s cry.
I looked back at my men, and girl, and knocked louder.
“We’re friendly!” I called through the door and waited some more. Nothing.