We began with the cars we could get to start, many of them still had enough of a charge to get them going. We drove those cars to the house and off the driveway to start the barricade. The dead cars proved to be a lot more troublesome. Either they wouldn’t start, or they contained several undead passengers. I broke down and allowed Sarah’s words to get to me. I couldn’t protect everyone from the death that engulfed the earth, so each one of us took turns pulling the rotting corpses out of their cars and dispatching them with a single shot to the head. More than one of us was forced to the side of the road to spill our stomach all over the asphalt. While the task was already gruesome, it was made harder when we came across children. I always volunteered to take care of them. Not because it was easier for me, but because even though I couldn’t keep the death from destroying my friends, I could keep them from having to do this. I nearly broke down when I came across a car seat, small hands grasping at the air. A small, stained blanket covered the form, its tiny arms lacking the dexterity to push it away from its face. I had to clench my jaw to stop my hand from shaking each time I was forced to put down one of the little kids. Hold it together Ryan, I thought, hold it together.
The cars we couldn’t start we had to either push or leave in place, meaning that we could only take the smaller cars. The larger cars and the trucks were left alone, I had an idea to use them later. Clearing the highway and adding them to the fence took three days, longer than I wanted, but we had a limited number of people to work with. One or two cars is easy, pushing six and seven cars is when it gets hard. I had to make sure no one got too tired or sloppy, so we took it slow.
After a day of rest, we initiated what Matt had come to call Operation Reload. When we weren’t pushing cars or killing zombies Jason and I spent our free time going over a hand drawn map of Astoria. I marked out several different routes through the town so Jason would have a couple options, I just hoped my map drawing skills and my memory were up to par.
While I could tell everyone was nervous, the gun run started off smoothly. Jason took the bike while the seven of us, Matt, Thomas, Christina, Jessica, Hannah, Sarah and I, took the four cars. Jason was armed with a shotgun and a couple very loud air horns. The plan was to have him lure the Walkers away, and then slip off to safety before returning home. After he had drawn away a sufficient number of the zombies we would get into Frank’s and stock up.
Things were fine at first. Jason took off slow, horn blaring, taking the dead with him. We made it into the store and heard gunshots off in the distance. Jason was doing a good job of luring the dead away and hopefully eliminating a few on the way. While Matt and Jessica guarded the front with the shotguns, Thomas, Christina and Hannah gathered up any useful equipment from the sports section. While the five of them worked upstairs, Sarah and I headed downstairs.
I hesitated, only a momentary pause as I stared at the racks of guns and boxes of ammo. I was a kid in a candy store. Using a couple of duffel bags I had snatched from upstairs, I loaded every gun I had wanted but never needed. It all went into the bag, pistols, rifles, shotguns, they all became mine. Since people were primarily into hunting, and because it was illegal to own an automatic weapon, I knew there wouldn’t be anything different than what I had back at the house, only more variety.
Although it was on the gray side of the law, I knew that gun enthusiasts usually kept highly prized weapons around. It wasn’t that they were criminals, they just understood the beauty that could be held in a weapon, so I started to look for a back room. Jumping behind the counter I pushed on walls and felt for seams until I found what I was looking for. A door in the wood paneling that hid a small closet.
Before me mounted on the wall, were four Colt AR-15 Tactical Carbines, each equipped with a Colt 4x20 scope, and four twenty-round magazines. These weren’t illegal weapons, but their sale was controlled and they were illegal in California. This was a gun that people mistakenly thought of when talking about assault rifles. The magazines were interchangeable with the M16 and a host of other weapons. The actual firearm was no larger than my pistol, but the way it was assembled made it look awesome. Sure, that’s not the point, but I was still a guy, and years of military games had conditioned me to think that it was cool.
“Jackpot,” I said. Also mounted on the wall was what I can only describe as a treasure. It was a Heckler & Koch PSG1A1, an incredibly expensive rifle. It was equipped with Schmidt & Bender 3-12x50 Police Marksman II Scope and three twenty round magazines.
It had the ability to use a fifty round drum, but that would be expecting too much. There were only about four hundred PSG1A1’s in the United States, and they were only owned by wealthy collectors. How the owner of this small shop got his hands on one, I’d never know. Each cost anywhere from twelve thousand to fifteen thousand dollars, and were used by the German equivalence of SWAT. “Perfect,” I mumbled as I broke the weapon down so it would fit in the bag and grabbed all the ammo for the five weapons. Taking the bag I was holding and another bag upstairs, I loaded them in the car. Bag after bag of guns and ammunition were carted upstairs and loaded into one of the four parked cars.
After clearing out the gun shop we started on the rest of the upstairs. We had already been there for over thirty minutes and I didn’t want to spend much more time shopping. The Walkers who weren’t fast enough to follow Jason, or who were drawn from far off, were slowly turning their attention towards us. I handed Thomas my pistol and told him to put a bullet in each of their foreheads. We filled the rest of the cars with bats, machetes, knives and clothes, mostly camouflage and under armor. We also found enough boots for all of us and guessed the sizes for the ones not there. I did a run through of the store, ensuring that we hadn’t left anything useful behind when I remember to get more arrows, a couple quivers and any useful accessories I could find. I picked up two Quest Primal Bows that I hoped I could teach the others to use. I slung the two bows over my shoulders grabbed as much gear as I could and headed out to the car.
Even though Sarah and Thomas were keeping the Walkers at bay I called out, “Time to go.” With a couple more shots and a couple more Walkers down, we were headed home. Our cars were filled to the bursting point with guns and other supplies, and I knew I would have to find somewhere to store it all.
Before completing the return home we stopped and pushed the heavier cars and trucks together and created a sort of roadblock. It wouldn’t stop any living humans who had the reasoning skills of a kindergartener, but it would most definitely slow or stop the undead. We made it two cars thick and it spanned the width of the highway. Jason should have been home already, so he wouldn’t be a problem, but if he wasn’t back he could ditch the bike and walk the three miles to the house.
Turning the caravan into the driveway I picked up my radio and said, “Hey, Justin, we’re coming up, can you let everyone know we’re back.”
“Sure thing, James.”
As we slowed to a stop, everyone jumped out to start the unloading process. Getting out I started to haul duffels bags inside, dropping them in the living room. Some bags were torn into right away, mostly those with clothes or new boots. The guns were left alone because I had to figure out a good place to put them. I was considering either my room or my little sister’s old room. I didn’t know if my room would have enough floor space, or even wall space if I decided to mount them, I’d have to give it some thought.
Nearly everyone from inside came out to help unload, but I noticed that someone was missing who shouldn’t have been. “Hey, where’s Jason?” I asked.
Justin frowned and looked at me. “He hasn’t gotten back yet.”
CHAPTER 6
I gaped, my mind reeling at the possibilities. After what felt like an eternity, I managed to speak, “So, he’s not back yet. That’s okay.”
“What do you mean, okay? It’s not okay,” I heard Sarah say.
“Jason can take care of himself. He can find his way back.”
“And if he can’t?” asked Christ
ina.
“I’ll go and get him.”
We still had work to do, and worrying about Jason wouldn’t do any good. I used the time to unload and hauling bags to think of a plan to find him. If he didn’t manage to make it back it would help to be prepared.
I decided that using my sister’s old room for an armory would be the best way to store all the weapons and ammo we had acquired. She’d had her own bathroom and walk-in closet which could be converted into a panic room.
The first thing we needed to do was to unpack and sort the supplies. Piles of shotguns, rifles, handguns and knives began to develop, along with one massive pile of ammo which would have to be sorted through later. We began to stack the clothing that we had brought back into piles for men and women.
I kept my hands busy while I thought about Jason, I had to make sure that I seemed cool and calm. I couldn’t afford to scare anyone or cause a panic. To be honest, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I didn’t know if he was alive, dead, or turned. All I knew was that I couldn’t let anyone know that I was just as scared as they were.
In the end, I decided to wait for Jason to return for a while, running through all the possibilities. He could have simply run out of gas, wanted to scout an area, or he could have crashed the bike, gotten lost, or gotten himself backed into a corner. After running through all the possible scenarios in my mind, I decided to give Jason one hour to make it back before I went out to find him.
Thirty minutes had passed as I helped to organize and catalog the armory, setting aside gear for my quickly approaching rescue mission, when my radio came to life. “James,” I heard Justin say.
I took my radio from a shelf and replied, “Yeah?”
“Uh... You might want to get up here.”
“Walkers?” I asked as I grabbed my rifle.
“No, not Walkers.”
“Then what is it?”
“I c…can’t… Just get up here and see for yourself.”
Frowning, I picked up the pace and jogged outside to the ladder. Justin was using the binoculars to look into the distance, not towards the road, but towards a growing column of smoke.
I walked over to him and he handed me the binoculars. The billowing black smoke was clear against the gray sky. We both simply stood there in silence, until that silence was suddenly and decisively broken by the rolling thunder of an explosion. I don’t know what could have been the source, but I knew two things, that the explosion had taken place across the river in Washington and that the explosion, or more specifically, the noise from the explosion would draw company.
I handed the binoculars back to Justin and said, “Don’t worry about the explosion. Worry about the attention it’ll draw.”
“Attention?” questioned Justin, sounding slightly worried.
“Yeah. The explosion came from across the river, but the noise is going to draw every undead ear for miles. If they show up then it’ll be within a couple of hours, depending on how far away they are and what condition they’re in.”
“Right. You can count on me, James.”
“I know I can, Justin. I’m going to go tell the others what just happened, they might be a little freaked.” As I finished talking, and as if on cue, Sarah poked her head up over the edge of the roof.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Just a little explosion,” I said keeping my voice light.
“What?” yelled Sarah.
“I’ll explain it to everyone when I get inside,” I said waiving away her concern.
She didn’t like my answer, moreover, she didn’t like waiting, and she let me know it “Just get inside.” I started towards the ladder with a smile on my lips. Not because I was happy, but because it helped mask the growing sense of dread I felt for what I had to do and what that explosion could mean. It wasn’t an honest smile and I think she knew it, or at least the deepening frown on her face made me think so. Inside, Sarah gathered everyone to hear what I had to say. I sat patiently in the living room, refusing to say anything until everyone was present, wanting to only say this once.
Once Sarah had gathered everyone in the living room, including little Michelle, the questions began to pour in. Everyone wanted to know where Jason was, what the explosion was, and what I was going to do. I raised my hand and waited as one by one they fell silent. I looked briefly at each one of them. Each one of them was looking to me for a plan, for help, expecting me to keep them safe, to find Jason. Each one of them expected me to know what to do. Their faith saddened me. If they knew that I was as lost as they were, they would be crushed.
“There was just an explosion somewhere across the river.” Carrie opened her mouth with intent to question, but I cut her off, “I don’t know where it came from, just that it's somewhere in Washington. I don’t know what started the fire which caused the explosion.” I glanced around as I was about to deliver two bits of information that were sure to raise a voice or two. “What I do know is that the noise is going to draw Walkers, it may take them a couple of hours, but I’m sure they’ll show up.” Now for the worst part, I thought. I clicked on my radio, “Justin do you copy?”
“I’m listening.”
“Good. I’m going to leave the radio open so you can hear what I have to say along with the others. The explosion is going to draw Walkers, the possible increase in their numbers will make it hard to get away from the house and into town, so I’m going to have to go after Jason sooner than I planned. I’ll be leaving in fifteen minutes, and I’ll be going alone.”
A predictable storm of protests followed my announcement. I looked at all of them silently, at their wrinkled brows, yelling mouths, and angry protests. Then my gaze settled on Sarah. She wasn’t yelling, she didn’t have to, her eyes said everything. As I stared into those beautiful eyes I saw plenty of anger, but I could have sworn I saw sadness and fear. I quieted them with another raised hand. In a calm voice so low it was almost a whisper, I said, “This isn’t up for discussion. I’m leaving.”
I got up ending the discussion, there was nothing left to say. I headed back to the armory to finish getting my pack together. I was equipped with my Beretta with extra magazines, two knives, one at my waist and one on my calf, my bow, and quiver strapped to my back. In my pack I had a box of ammo, a couple bottles of water, beef jerky, power bars, a sweatshirt, and a basic medical kit.
The quick rundown of my plan was to obtain a dirt bike from the nearby neighbors with minimal difficulty, find Jason, and get our asses back to the house. I knew the neighbors had at least two off-road vehicles. It was all too common to hear them racing around their property during the summer.
I called up to Thomas on the roof, “Keep ’em safe Thomas.” He nodded, his gaze never leaving the road. As I turned my own attention to the long driveway. I saw Sarah waiting for me. Uh-oh, I thought, this can't be good.
I stood in front of Sarah and waited for her to get angry. Was she just going to yell, or might she actually hit me this time? But all she did was stare directly into my eyes and ask, “Why?”
“Why what?” I asked.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because Jason might be hu...”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she said angrily.
“Because it has to be done, and it has to be me,” I said.
“But why just you? We can hel...”
“No,” I said quickly, my turn to cut her off. “I’m not putting anyone else in danger.”
“You can’t protect us all the time.”
“Maybe not, but I can try,” I said resolutely. “I don’t know if you’ve thought of this yet, Sarah, but my family, my whole family, is dead. My brother, my sisters, my dad, uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, grandparents, all of them dead. Or as dead as they can be. You, everyone in that house, you are my family now, and I’ll be damned if I lose any of you. I don’t think I could take it.” My emotions were running high and it could be heard in my voice.
“Did you ever t
hink that some of us might feel the same way?” she asked sadly.
I’d never thought I could mean as much to these people as they meant to be. Maybe I was just grasping at whatever I had left, but I didn’t think so. I didn’t know what to say, so the first thing that came out was, “I’ve got to go.”
As I turned my back to her and began to walk away I heard from behind me, “You’ll come back, right?”
I turned back as said with a smile, “Of course.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Pinky promise?” she said as she struck out her finger.
I smiled, walked back to her, looped my pinky finger around hers and said, “I pinky promise.” Her brief touch sent warmth blossoming through my own arm Get it together Ryan I thought. Releasing her hand, I started again down the driveway. In truth, I didn’t know if I could keep my promise, but I was going to try my hardest, for her.
At the highway I turned towards town, walking about a block and a half until I turned off the highway to follow another driveway up to the neighbor’s house. Once I saw the house I knew that the owners had been dead or undead for the whole disaster. Their dogs lay dead, still attached to their chains, muzzles around their mouths. I could hear banging coming from inside of the house. It appeared that the noise from the explosion had invigorated my neighbors.
Survivors Series (Book 1): Heroes Aren't Born Page 8