by Tim Moon
Ben unslung his rifle from across his back. The sling had dug into his shoulder during their work. He felt for the tender area and massaged it while he maintained watch on the neighborhood.
Standing behind the makeshift wall of vehicles, he felt like a soldier guarding a castle. A boring yet necessary duty. The worst part was the silence that let his mind roam free. It often went to dark places he would rather not think about.
Ben heard lumbering footsteps a moment before the front door opened. The screen squeaked open and Chadwick emerged in dry clothes.
“Don’t go for a walk at night, you might get mistaken for a zombie.” Ben chuckled.
“Think that’s funny do you?” Chadwick said with a grin.
“Seriously though, you forgot the oil.” Ben jerked a thumb at the door.
“Right.” Chadwick sighed. “Too late now.”
Ben looked at his friend. “What’s up?”
“Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine. How’s the leg?”
“Ah, you know. A real pain in the arse,” Chadwick said. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“Just let me know when dinner’s ready. I’m fine until then.”
“Fair enough.” Chadwick went back in and the screen door creaked again.
“Get some oil,” Ben said after him.
“Too far, can’t hear you.”
Ben smiled to himself.
His brain didn’t waste any time mulling over problems. After Chadwick’s leg healed, would he go to California to search for his parents? Deep down he hoped Chadwick would stay, but Ben wouldn’t blame him if he left.
Ben sighed and walked down the steps to the cars. He climbed until he was on top of the van, where he sat down to keep watch.
Chadwick’s plans are a problem for another day, he thought.
67
Dim light emanated from a pair of battery-powered lanterns hanging above the rectangular oak dinner table. A generous spread of food sat atop a festive tablecloth. No one knew the exact date; just that it was the holiday season. White snowmen on a red background brought a cheerful mood to the room.
Holidays had always been a big deal at home. Ben tried to ignore the small voice that pointed out how the tablecloth was a reminder of how things used to be and what they used to have. Ben turned his attention to the food, and his eyes bulged at the feast.
While Anuhea and Ben cleaned their weapons and prepped gear for the next day, his mom, Nancy, and Charlotte had cooked the meal with a bit of help from Chadwick. One giant bowl of beef and vegetable stew sat steaming in the middle of the table, looking fit for a king. A small mountain of mashed potatoes called out to Ben. He lovingly eyed the rivulets of melting butter that ran down the sides like magma. Even the modest salad they had made looked delicious.
Oliver traced his finger over one of the snowmen.
“Does it snow here?” he asked. “I like snow. We can make snowmen.” He looked at Ben. “Do you think it will snow?”
Nancy was busy in the kitchen and no one else in the room had been to Vancouver before. Ben felt everyone’s attention fall on him. He cleared his throat.
“Maybe. We don’t usually get a lot of snow here. When we do, it usually melts after a few days,” Ben said.
Oliver frowned as he continued to trace one of the snowmen with his finger. “I hope it snows.”
“Me too,” Ben said. Although he wasn’t so sure he wanted snow. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
He wondered how snow or freezing temperatures might affect the infected. Few had died with proper winter gear on. Surely the cold temperatures would slow them.
Might be a good chance to cull the herd, he thought.
Ben’s stomach growled at the smell of food, pulling him from that line of thought. When Nancy and Charlotte walked into the room carrying bread rolls and a steaming bowl of canned corn with butter melting on top, it growled so loudly he worried they would hear him again. He nearly pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
Actual butter! He could hardly believe his own eyes.
Chadwick brought in a tray of grilled meat from the garage. Ben bit his lip at the glorious sight.
“It’s so beautiful, I think I might cry,” Ben said, rubbing the corner of his eye for effect.
His friends chuckled.
“We need to find some propane tanks soon,” Chadwick told Ben.
“How much do we have left?” he asked.
“A few days’ worth at the most.”
Ben sighed and nodded.
Most of the food was cooked on a gas-powered camping stove. The garage was safer than inside the house where people lived. It was also better than the backyard where the smell of food would spread, possibly attracting infected or other survivors. Neither scenario appealed to them. So, they accepted the small risk of starting a fire by cooking inside the garage.
Ben savored every bite. The meat was tender, the vegetables soft but not mushy, and the mashed potatoes were heavenly. Fresh food was comforting and filling in a way that packaged food just couldn’t match.
As he savored another bite of tender, juicy meat, a realization struck Ben. Unless he was wrong, the last of their fresh meat was on the table. Fresh here was relative, Ben knew, it was merely the last of the meat from the freezer that looked safe to eat. Unless they wanted to spend their future eating canned meat and MRE mystery patties, they would all have to learn how to hunt and butcher wild game. He was not confident in his hunting skills. Even if he managed to kill a deer or something, his knowledge and ability to skin and butcher an animal that large was minimal at best.
There is a dairy farm on the east side of town, Ben thought. If any cows survived, they could try tending them. Butchering such a large animal if they couldn’t milk it would still present a problem. No easy options.
According to their plan, they were going to raid the pantries of every house on the block now that they had been cleared of infected. That supply would help them survive the winter. Even if it meant eating only canned and packaged food, at least they would live. Any shortfall would be made up for in raids, which they would have to do no matter what.
Ben pushed aside the concerns and focused on how thankful he was that his new family had cooked such a delicious looking meal. After all the work they had done that day, he was ravenous.
“Thank you for your hard work,” Ben said glancing at his mom and friends. “If meal prep was left up to me we’d all be eating chips and dry cereal.”
“That’s still better than those MREs,” Charlotte said, reaching for a dinner roll.
“Can’t say I’d ever volunteer to eat one of those again,” Chadwick said with a wide grin.
Oliver made a face that accurately described everybody’s feeling on the subject, much to the amusement of the group.
“The real hero is your mom.” Chadwick leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “With her expert directions and a reminder not to leave the food on the barbecue, we have not just an edible meal, but a real feast.”
Ben chuckled.
“It’s nice to have people over,” Nancy said as she scooped potatoes onto her plate. “This place was so empty before.”
Ben reached over and patted her arm. Her eyes twinkled in the dim light. She’d expressed that sentiment a few times already. He was so grateful to all his friends, near and far, that had helped him get home.
“Real quick,” Ben said, raising his hand for attention. “We’re close enough to Thanksgiving, and I just want to say that I’m thankful for each of you. I wouldn’t be here without each of you.” His head bowed a little. “And I’d also like to acknowledge those we’ve parted ways with or lost. They all helped us be here tonight.”
“Here, here,” Anuhea said.
“Cheers, mate,” Chadwick said, raising his glass.
Glasses clinked all around with warm smiles. Even Oliver raised his cup of juice.
Then they dug in.
The beef
and vegetable stew had a thick, savory broth with large pieces of potato and carrots. Ben loved every bite. He dipped a dinner roll in the stew and chewed it with a satisfied grin.
Oliver struggled to scoop more mashed potatoes onto his plate, so Ben took the spoon and made a small mountain for him. Before he handed it back, Ben pretended he was about to take a bite. The boy sputtered when Ben slowly raised a spoonful of potatoes to his open mouth.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Oliver finally said, scowling at Ben. “Eat your own.”
“You mean I can’t have some after I just did all that work for you?” Ben asked.
Oliver shook his head.
The faint sound of screeching tires followed by a loud crash interrupted their meal. Ben almost dropped the plate. Everyone flinched at the unexpected noise. Another sharp reminder that these days, shit could hit the fan at any moment.
68
Ben heaved a sigh at the delicious food that would grow cold while they investigated the incident outside.
“Grab your guns; let’s go have a look,” he said, pushing away from the table to stand up.
“Don’t go outside,” Oliver said, pouting. “You can have a bite of my potatoes.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Ben ruffled Oliver’s hair. “We’ll be okay.”
“Oliver, honey, will you stay here and keep me safe?” Nancy said.
Ben remembered questions like that when he was younger. They were his mom’s way of making a command sound reasonable. Oliver huffed and stabbed at his food. He hesitated for a second before nodding.
Nancy gave Ben a concerned look.
“We’ll be okay,” he repeated. “You two stay here.”
Charlotte and Chadwick were already in the front room. Anuhea stood by the door, ready to go. She handed Ben his rifle.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Are we really going out there?” Chadwick asked. His face showing a healthy dose of skepticism.
Charlotte nodded in agreement. “It’s like when people run upstairs in a scary movie.”
Ben frowned at the comparison as he went to the window.
“Dim the lights,” he said, cautious of letting light escape.
Heavy blankets hung over the curtains, partly to help hold in what little heat they had, but also to block the light from inside the house giving away their location to the infected or survivors. A little trick they learned at the hotel back in Kona.
Chadwick blew out a lantern and waved a hand in the air to clear a wisp of smoke that escaped. Charlotte clicked off her flashlight. Anuhea waited by the door, looking out of the peep hole.
Easing back the edge of the blanket and curtain underneath, Ben peered outside. The neighborhood was dark, but his eyes were still adjusting. Everything in front of the house looked the same as it had when they finished setting up the vehicle barriers. When he glanced to the left, he saw a dull glow, but couldn’t make out what the source was. His view was blocked by the angle and the neighbor’s bushes.
If it was a car wreck, then the barrier had already proved itself useful, which made the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. Until a rock formed in his stomach. They really would have to go outside if they wanted to figure out what the threat was. The barrier would keep out individual zombies, or small groups, but the biggest herds could press against them. Worst of all, it did nothing to stop the living.
“I can’t see anything from here. Just a glow… Possibly headlights,” Ben said softly. He closed the curtain and turned to his friends. “I’ll go out and look.”
“Not by yourself,” Anuhea said, already unlocking the door. “I’m coming with you.”
“Shall we have a look from upstairs first?” Chadwick asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Ben tilted his head in silent approval. “Fine. To the lookout.”
Anuhea was the first one up the stairs.
“I’ll stay here. I won’t see anything that you three can’t figure out,” Chadwick said. Stairs were the bane of his injury. He had proved to be resilient and determined to contribute wherever he could add value, but had no problem stepping back when others were better suited to a given task. Ben appreciated that about him.
Giving Chadwick a nod, Ben followed the others upstairs for a view from their designated lookout. He liked to think of it as a sniper’s nest. The second-floor foyer was an open area that had originally had a small couch, a table, and a small bookshelf. Ben had often studied there back in high school. The key feature was the arched window that looked out over the neighborhood. The view was expansive. A blanket was nailed to the wall above the window, just like all the windows in the house. Except this one was long enough that whoever was on guard duty could lift the blanket up and drape it over them.
Since returning home, Ben had filled and stacked improvised sandbags up to the window sill. They each took turns surveying the area from the comfort of a padded chair. A small card table with sandbags was an improvised tripod, armed with a .30-06 hunting rifle with a scope, which Charlotte had found under a bed in the house they had cleared for Oliver.
It was dark upstairs. They hadn’t brought a flashlight or anything. Anuhea lifted the blanket for them and the three of them huddled around the window, straining to catch a glimpse of whatever had interrupted dinner.
“Anything?” Charlotte whispered.
“Idiot’s left the lights on,” Anuhea grumbled.
“Do you see anybody?” Ben asked.
Charlotte shook her head.
“It’s too dark to see from here.” Anuhea glanced at him. “We have to go out there. There might be survivors.”
Ben pressed his lips together. He didn’t want to bring a stranger into their home, and he also didn’t want a stranger wandering the neighborhood. The threat was too real.
On the other hand, he couldn’t just let a survivor die if they were able to help them, without too much risk. Damn, he hated being the one to make these calls. Why did they look to him?
“I don’t see any zombies. You?” he finally asked.
Anuhea shook her head. Charlotte agreed.
“Let’s go have a look then,” Ben said with a sigh. The peace and comfort of their family dinner was already broken, may as well get back to business.
They went downstairs to the living room and prepared.
“Chadwick, you’re on guard duty here,” Ben said. “Charlotte, can you cover us from upstairs?”
“I can fight too, you know?” she said.
Ben let out a mental groan. He didn’t want to argue.
“I know you can,” he said with a nod. “But we need someone to cover us.”
“Anuhea’s the best shot,” Charlotte countered loudly.
“She’s also the best fighter,” he shot back.
Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. “Fine, but next time I’m going with you.”
Ben frowned at her outburst. It wasn’t like her. She had never shown much interest in fighting the infected. It had always seemed like a necessary evil.
“Fine,” he said, turning and motioning for the back door. “Let’s go.”
“Be safe, honey,” his mom called from the dining room when they walked past.
“Always,” Ben said. He looked at Charlotte and Chadwick. “Watch for the infected, but also keep an eye out for anyone moving around the neighborhood. We don’t know what’s going on so let’s not make assumptions. Don’t shoot unless you have to.”
Anuhea and Ben exited the rear of the house to cut through a few backyards and stay hidden. On the far side of a neighbor’s house, they crept down the driveway and ducked behind a thick row of hedges. They watched and listened for a few long seconds.
Cold air blew through Ben’s hair, making his ears tingle and sending a chill down his spine. Their breath made clouds as they surveyed the scene. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t see much.
“Is it crazy that I want to get closer, so we can see what’s happening?” Ben asked.
Anuhea
made a snorting sound that basically told him yes, but her expression said she was curious too.
A roar split the silence, startling them. It was a cross between a scream and a growl, and like nothing they had heard before. The primal sound made the hair rise on Ben’s neck and sent shivers racing down his arms. Whatever it was, it was close. Maybe two blocks away at most.
They glanced into each other’s wide-eyes, dread apparent on their faces.
“I take that back. I don’t want to get closer,” he joked nervously.
“I’ve got your back,” Anuhea said, nudging him forward.
Ben took a deep breath and began moving towards the car barrier, which was still a couple hundred feet away. They had to turn off the headlights and check for any survivors before whatever hellish monster they heard closed in. Ben slipped on the wet grass as he cut across the front yard. He landed with a grunt and sucked in a breath when his knee hit the ground. A jolt of pain shot through his knee cap, but he managed to scramble to his feet and keep moving. His pant leg had quickly soaked up water when it hit the ground, making it stick to his skin like an icy leech. He held his rifle at the ready and rushed forward to keep pace with Anuhea.
Halfway between the house and the barrier, a car door creaked open. The headlights cast odd shadows. One unidentifiable shadow moved away from the car, then back towards it. Ben instinctively stopped and crouched down. The knee he hit on the ground ached, and his heart raced as he gulped air.
Another sound reached them. Dozens of shuffling feet and soft groans. Infected.
Ben cursed under his breath as he scanned the area. Darkness cloaked their position. They could avoid the encounter. Or they could help. He glanced at Anuhea, who seemed to read his expression. She nodded and motioned forward. They had to reach the survivor before the zombies did.
Squishy sounds from their shoes on the damp pavement marked a steady beat as they raced ahead. Ben felt the familiar sensations of thrill and dread that accompanied a pending battle.
They reached the barrier and crouched behind a car to catch their breath. The trunk of the car was open and the shadow they had seen was rummaging within. Ben spotted two people still seated inside the vehicle. He ducked back down.