Surviving Rage | Book 1

by Arellano, J. D.

  Each day after they returned, they ate a quick lunch before spending two hours working with knives under Serafina’s supervision.

  Even though he’d seen her handle a blade on previous occasions, he still found himself in awe of her skills. Effortlessly, she showed off smooth, fluid, fast knife work that slashed through the dummies they’d constructed with pine needle-filled burlap sacks. The dummies were covered in patchwork now, having been repaired daily after each training session.

  Daniel knew he’d never match Serafina’s speed and agility with a knife, but he had gotten better, thanks to her. The kids had gotten better as well, particularly Ashley, who had picked up the movements quickly, imitating Serafina’s actions well, though not as quickly. Brenna and Paul got better, but were still a long way from being able to win a close quarters fight with anyone big or fast.

  The biggest frustration so far had been with Paul’s shooting. The kid simply could not handle a gun properly. Not the pistol, not the rifle. His shots were consistently well wide of the target, with no discernible tendency that could be coached through. Even with Daniel’s undivided attention for the last thirty minutes of each training session the last two days, his progress had been virtually nonexistent.

  It was increasingly frustrating, but also rapidly approaching a point where it would have to be accepted for at least the short term. Daniel wanted to move on to more complex training, including long distance shooting, non-dominant hand shooting, and shooting on the move, but the extra effort he’d been spending with Paul was preventing that.

  Soon, he’d be forced to move forward with the training with or without Paul. There was no way around it. Time was of the essence.

  In the meantime, there was work to do. He quietly got out of bed, swinging his legs to the side and stepping onto the cold, wooden floor. Glancing back at Serafina, making sure she was still asleep, he paused momentarily, wondering if he should give her his usual two kisses on the head (the second being just in case the first one didn’t land properly in the dark) and tell her that he loved her before he went about his business. He took a step away, reconsidered, then quickly did so, feeling just the slightest bit of normality, like things were starting to settle into some kind of routine.

  He padded softly across the floor into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him. Using the clothes he’d propositioned the night before, he quickly dressed, then used a bottle of water while he brushed his teeth. He ran his hand over his closely shaved head, feeling the short hairs tickle his hand, before he slipped his knife into the pocket of his cargo pants. He shut off the light, opened the door and quietly snuck out of the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.

  When he got to the kitchen, Paul was already there, fully dressed and waiting for him, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  Speaking softly, Daniel asked, “What are you doing up?”

  “I heard you tell your wife that you were going to get up around five to work in the yard, so I decided to do the same.”

  Daniel grabbed the coffee decanter and filled it with water as he spoke. “You sure? You don’t have to.”

  The kid shrugged. “My shooting sucks. At least maybe I can help with this.”

  Smiling, Daniel filled the coffee maker with water and added grounds to the basket before turning the machine on. “Well, I’m glad you can help. I could use the extra hands this morning. Hope you can run a bit, too.”

  “I can. I ran cross country in school. It was the only sport my mom was okay with.” He shook his head. “She didn’t like contact sports.”

  “Alright, well, we’ll do a bit of running, then a bit of hiking back.”

  “Where we going?”

  “You’ll see. Before we go, though, we’ll need to take the cats out.” Daniel motioned to the door, where all three cats patiently sat. Ursula was the only one to meow, a low, unhappy one that let him know she needed to pee, and, more importantly, that she wasn’t happy about having to wait for a human to afford her the opportunity.

  Grabbing the leashes, they took the cats on a quick walk into the yard, letting them do their business. As usual, Ursula stayed close to Paul, rubbing against his leg after she’d finished. Daniel walked with Tom and Colossus, waiting patiently for them to finally stop sniffing every possible thing they could and get done relieving themselves.

  When they got back inside, the coffee was done. Daniel poured each of them a cup before sitting down at the large wood dining table with Paul. They quietly ate granola bars and the last remaining bananas as they sipped their coffee. Daniel figured they’d join the family for breakfast in a few hours, so the light snack - along with his coffee - would be enough to hold him over. He grabbed the stack of lightweight carabiners he’d been sanding the chrome off of and led Paul outside, locking the door behind them.

  Grabbing his jacket and gloves, he stuck the carabiners into his pockets before he walked out, then led Paul on a walk around the perimeter of the property, evaluating every inch of it, making mental notes of how he’d first repair what was there, then improve it. He began making a list of what supplies he’d need as he walked along, running his hand along the top of the fence as he did. There was a lot of work to be done. Most of the fence was way too short, and in the front of the property, there simply wasn’t one. Reaching the corner of the property, he stopped and looked back, contemplating his options. He realized he was approaching the problem all wrong.

  Right now, his concern was to protect the house, not maintain his property lines. That meant he didn’t need to follow the existing fence line. Looking along the back of the property, he saw that living at the edge of the forest was going to work in their favor. He could use the trees that were there as ‘posts’ and attach the barbed (and hopefully razor wire) to them. The trees didn’t run all the way out to the front of the property, but they were present along two-thirds of one side of their property, and three-fourths of the other. His generally rectangular-shaped property would be reduced in some areas, including the back corners, and widened along the sides, but using the trees would save them, time, energy, and resources. He discussed the plan with Paul, who was impressed by the idea and said it sounded like a great plan.

  Daniel made it clear that the fence as it was being envisioned would be primarily to stop any of the infected who approached. He had plans to put in deterrents for anyone else who wished them harm as well, but that would come after the first layer of defense was complete.

  Motioning for Paul to follow him, he walked to the front of the property, staying close to the trees to remain at least partially obscured, he wondered if one of the nearby houses would have at least some of the wood, concrete, and wire he needed. He thought the chances were slim, and probably not worth the effort. If he was going to take anything, it would be water, food, or medicine.

  When he reached the edge of the road, he stepped out onto the asphalt, turned to his left, and walked for about fifty yards before stopping and looking down the road toward the cross-street, which was about five hundred yards away. Looking over to his right, he saw the house of one of the long-time residents, a big, sturdy-looking white guy who was in his early seventies. Daniel had never met him, having only given a polite wave when he was coming or going on one of the family’s activities. He wondered if the man was as nice as he’d seemed and he was a bit mad at himself for not having made more of an effort to meet the man properly.

  Daniel’s eyes ran along the length of the house, looking the place over, taking everything in. The house was old, but well-maintained. It’s white paneling looked to be all intact, and the windows looked like they’d been replaced in the last few years. The roof looked relatively new as well, dark shingles that still held much of their original color. There was a long, asphalt driveway that ran along the left side of the house, and a small brick walkway that led from the driveway towards the front of the house, which showcased a long, enclosed porch that extended half the width of the house, from the front door to the far right corn
er of the house. Through the dark screens that enclosed the porch, Daniel saw a number of cushioned wooden chairs, a few coffee tables, and several end tables. The house itself was dark, and had been since Daniel and his family had arrived. He hoped it didn’t mean what he thought it did. From what he knew, the man was a full-time resident, not one who used the place as a vacation home. That probably explained the condition the place was in. If the man indeed lived there, and the place had been dark for who knows how long, it probably meant he wasn’t around anymore.

  Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the task at hand. Pointing down the street, he spoke to Paul. “See that cross street? We’re gonna jog to it, then turn right and head down one block, then we’ll cut through the woods to get to my buddy’s house. He’s got an old truck that he keeps there for when he wants to tow his jet skis down to the lake. We’ll use the truck to pick up materials from the building supply store, but we’ll have to take the long way around to make sure we stay away from the main roads.”

  Paul nodded. “Okay. I thought you said we’d be doing some hiking?”

  “We will. The truck stops at his house when we get back, just in case anyone sees us driving. We’ll have to lug everything back by hand. It’ll take multiple trips.” He smacked Paul on the back, grinning. “A few less, thanks to you.”

  Paul smiled back. “Glad to help.”

  Taking a deep breath, Daniel nodded again before stepping off on his right foot. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Together, they set off at a medium pace, being sure to keep their steps as light as possible to minimize noise. Daniel used hand gestures to tell Paul to keep an eye on the left side of the road while he watched the right, constantly scanning for threats.

  As they approached the corner, Daniel put his hand out in front of the young man, getting him to slow. They angled their path to the right, up onto the sidewalk, stopping when they were able to see down the cross-street, but still obscured from view. They watched for several minutes to make sure no one was around before they started running again. Daniel led the young man across to the left side of the road, then off the road, crossing the sidewalk to get to a winding dirt trail that ran through the woods. After a few hundred yards, he broke right, making his way to a small, waist-high gate that was part of a chain link fence. Daniel held up his hand again, indicating that they’d wait once more.

  As he looked at his friend’s house, Daniel was surprised at how quickly he’d gotten winded in the high altitude. He knew it had an impact on cardiovascular performance, but didn’t think it would be as much as it was. He stood there, watching his friend’s house as he tried to catch his breath.

  He’d met Derek, the owner of the house, at work. Derek was a good guy who’d been going through challenging times with his marriage. He worked damn hard, putting in long hours working for a Defense contractor in San Diego. He also put in long hours driving from East Temecula down to the city, preferring to take the burden of the drive so that his family could live in the size and type of house that was simply unaffordable in San Diego to anyone making less than at least three hundred thousand a year. Truthfully, the house Derek and his wife Christina had purchased was gorgeous, a big, four thousand square foot home with six bedrooms, three and a half baths, and a massive loft that he’d converted into a bar/gaming area. He’d put in a giant pool/spa and outdoor kitchen in the backyard, and still had room to install a big play set for his kids.

  Unfortunately, the long hours working and commuting were a strain on his marriage. He simply was gone too much, leaving the house at five a.m. and getting home after six. When he finally got home, he was tired and grouchy from battling traffic for over an hour and a half. He missed every one of the kids performances or sporting events that didn’t take place on a Saturday or Sunday, leaving the burden on Christina. Doctor and dentist visits were also the responsibility of Christina, as were meals, homework help, and ferrying the kids back and forth to school, sports practices, and anything else they had going on. As a result, she was constantly tired and cranky as well. The two of them fought almost daily, with many of the arguments resulting in him sleeping in the guest room.

  For all the extra space he’d gotten when they bought the home, they’d given up the one thing that was irreplaceable: time.

  Feeling confident that Derek wasn’t home, Daniel opened the gate and stepped into the yard, motioning for Paul to follow. Cutting across the pine needle-covered backyard, he wondered how long it had been since Derek had been up to the house, and if the truck would start. He knew that Derek kept a portable jump starter in his shed, having seen him use it in the past, but hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The shed was locked, and he didn’t want to have to break in.

  When they got to the truck, an old model Nissan Titan with faded grey paint that was fully oxidized on top, Daniel reached into the wheel well and found the magnetic key holder that he knew would be there. He pressed the button on the FOB, and felt relieved when he heard the driver side door unlock, indicating that the battery on the big truck still held a charge. He pressed the button again, unlocking the passenger door so that Paul could get in. Inserting the key into the ignition, he turned the key, engaging the starter. Thankfully, the engine roared to life, settling into a smooth, relatively quiet idle.

  Putting the truck in drive, he pulled forward, rolling the vehicle slowly down the driveway, pausing at the sidewalk so that he could observe the street. It was grey in the early morning light, deserted and quiet, with little more than the occasional leaf blowing in the wind to provide any indication that they weren’t looking at a painting.

  He pulled out his phone and opened the map he’d downloaded. Using his finger, he showed Paul the route he wanted to take, tracing the way with his finger on the screen. They’d avoid the main thoroughfare as much as possible, using side streets and residential roads to do so. He imagined that if Google was online, it wouldn’t even register the route he intended to take, considering it too time consuming and too long when the main drag would get them there in five minutes or less.

  Then again, Google wasn’t online, and of all the things Google knew, it didn’t kno w that the worst of mankind had emerged mere hours after law enforcement became incapacitated. His goal was to minimize contact while getting the supplies he needed to provide his family with a place that was safe from unwanted interactions.

  Keeping the truck’s lights off, he turned onto the street, keeping his speed in check to minimize noise. Driving down the street, he and Paul kept their eyes moving, scanning ahead, abreast, and behind them, looking for threats. In the back of his mind, Daniel wondered if the infected slept. It seemed unlikely, but when there was nothing or no one to attack, what did they do?

  They crossed Big Bear Boulevard, using the small roads that wound between the lakefront properties, traveling east until they had to use the main road to reach the next turn onto the side streets that would allow them to avoid The Village area, which was the main tourist area and most likely place for any infected people to be.

  Rounding a blind corner as they turned onto Big Bear Boulevard for the short, unavoidable stretch, they both froze in their seats. Daniel took his foot off the gas as he pulled over to the left side of the road, bringing the truck to rest in a spot where a fishing gear store would mostly block them from view.

  Straight ahead, the Big Bear Lodge was lit up, shining brightly in the early morning light. The edge of the parking lot was lined with SUVs, trucks and vans, all parked as close as possible, forming a veritable wall along the perimeter. It was clearly a defensive measure, but who was it meant to keep out? Just the infected, or the uninfected as well? Near the entrance to the big building, parked to the right of the entrance, was a single law enforcement vehicle, a big white SUV with a sheriff’s department logo plastered on its side.

  Something about it seemed off. Daniel revisited the map, taking the phone back from Paul. They’d have little choice but to travel on the boulevard that would take t
hem straight towards the lodge, unable to turn off until they were within just over a hundred yards.

  Unless….

  Using his fingers to zoom out on the map, he dragged the image to the left, identifying a spot where two nearby roads ended about a hundred yards from each other. Barring any fencing or large obstacles, the truck would have little trouble traveling across the unpaved area. If necessary, four wheel drive mode was an option. From there, multiple roads would provide paths around the lodge, keeping plenty of distance between them and the lodge.

  Reversing down the road, he drew the truck parallel with the side street he was looking for before turning the wheel to the right and pulling forward. They kept an eye on the lodge as they drove across the boulevard, looking for any sign that they’d been sighted. As far as Daniel could tell, there wasn’t anyone posted as a lookout, but he kicked himself for not bringing the binoculars with him, and vowed to come back later to have a closer look.

  They drove up the hill in silence, passing dark homes on both sides of the street. Several of the homes stood there in the early morning light with their front door open, seemingly waiting for their owners to come home. While most of the homes had little in the front yard other than potted plants which could be moved inside during the winter months, a few had grass; small lawns that were spotted with yellow and brown.

  When they reached the end of the long road, he pulled the truck off to the side and turned off the ignition. He sat there with Paul, watching the property on the left at the end of the cul de sac, waiting for signs of movement. There was a trace of smoke seeping from the chimney, but little else to indicate anyone was in the house. Under normal circumstances, it would have been enough to make Daniel move on and look for another route, but this was truly the only option, so he waited, watching the property to see if there were any other signs of activity. After several minutes of silent stillness, Daniel opened the door and got out.

  “Stay here and keep an eye out. Make sure you watch the road behind us, too.”