by Unknown
I remember a time with my father, when I was only 8, hiking through the woods looking for squirrels. He would stop all of a sudden and squat down to speak to me at my level, eye to eye. He would whisper in my ear and point out a squirrel on a branch, lifting his rifle up to his shoulder and pulling the trigger. He was always taking me hunting, explaining how the animals traveled, how to tell where they were, how to track them.
He taught me animal calls to attack the right animals. He taught me how to kill an animal, so it was difficult for me to fully understand why killing an infected had been such a problem for me. Killing an animal was always done with the animal's sacrifice in mind, never for sport. I killed my first deer when I was nine, my first moose when I was twelve and a bobcat when I was sixteen. Each time, my dad would show me how to field dress it to get the most from the animal. We’d return home with meat to be dried, salted and hung in our pantry.
I was still asking myself why I would hesitate to kill an infected, the only reason that I could come up with, was that this was still a person, a human being, and everything else I killed in the past was for food or clothing. I never had an experience where my life was in danger and I had to protect myself or a situation where I killed something just for the sport. We ate everything, used the fur to sell, trade or wear. Killing a person or someone who once was a person didn’t fit what I knew. Maybe this was a drawback for my dad’s lessons.
My mom didn’t come with us into the woods very often. When she decided to join us, it was hard to tell who was most happy, my dad or I. My dad would go with us to the places in the city more times than my mom would go to the woods. He was OK with the parks or a play because they were things he could believe in, touch them and they helped you to understand people. Things that weren’t real, that were make believe were avoided by him.
At the time, I resented both of them for splitting up like that, but now I understand what they were trying to do. They were trying to give me the best of both worlds, letting me see both worlds so I could choose which one I wanted.
My father was the one to teach me how to live on my own, without depending on others, to work with nature and the knowledge I had about mother earth. My mother taught me how to enjoy other people, live life, enjoy the small things and to deal with the human race.
When I was sixteen, just after killing the bobcat, my mother was killed in a train accident on her way to work. She had just gotten a different job that was located on the outside of the city. This was only her second week of the new job when the train derailed and killed all 152 people on board. A faulty stop signal was to blame and there were all kinds of sympathy for the families impacted.
My dad and I were out hiking that day, planning to camp till Sunday, fishing, and tracking. We had just bought some land around the lake and he was working on how he was going to set up his camp. The plan was to build a getaway that even my mother would enjoy. We got back on Sunday afternoon and found our neighbor waiting for us at our house.
She told my dad what happened and we went to the coroner's to identify my mother. That was the first and last time I had seen my dad cry.
A funeral followed a week later with friends and some family paying their condolences to my father and I. Speaking about my mother in the past tense, about all of the fun times they had with her. All the times my mother went out of her way to help someone, the times that my father and mother had spent together as young kids, first meeting in college. I’m sure it’s common that people hold back the bad things about a person at a funeral, but my mother truly only provided good memories for everyone. Even the tough times that my parents spent with each other were better than most people's good times.
We left the city for good a month after my mother’s death. Just enough time for my father to sell everything we owned, buy what he needed for his land and get out of dodge. He promised a better life, a life where we controlled what happened to us, not someone else telling us what to do.
The first year was hard for me, but each year after got easier. I missed the city, the bustle, and hustle of life in the city. We’d travel into Charleston once or twice a year for some basic supplies or to visit a friend, but we rarely stayed longer than one night. Dad just didn’t like it and he couldn’t wait to get back to the woods.
My father died from a falling out of a tree he was trying to climb. We were trying to build another tree house as a secondary place that would allow us to travel longer distances while hunting and act as a second home should we need our own space.
During the winter you could travel further than a day's distance, looking for something to hunt. You didn’t want to get caught out in the open during the winter once the sun went down. That was a death sentence, so that meant we had to stay within walking distance to the main cabin which limited the area we could hunt in.
My father was up one of the trees we were interested in, trying to secure the main support beam when his tie off failed and he fell to the ground. I was out getting another support beam, moving it from the clearing we had used to cut and trim the boards.
When I got back with the new board, I found him under the main support beam dead. There wasn’t any chance of reviving him. I went and got help from some ranchers that lived in the area and together we took his body to our cabin where we laid him to rest.
I was now alone; my family was gone, my old friends from the city had moved on with their own lives and there was nothing holding me to the woods. So I decided to secure the cabin in the trees and move to the city since I had always wanted to go back. If that didn’t work out, I could always come back to the woods and live the life of a hermit.
Maybe we should think of heading to my cabin in the trees after we found out what was going on at Butch’s parents’ house. Porters Lake was close by and we could set it up as the final step in our security with a house boat. Something to think about.
Chapter 15
“Amy to Matt.” The request over the two-way radio brought me back to present time.
I was standing on the balcony of the apartment above Amy’s waiting for Butch and her to get in place at the door to the stairwell on the twelfth floor. We were trying to get to Amanda’s parent's apartment to see if they were still alive.
I really doubted that we would find them. We hadn't heard any noise from the tenants on the third floor and that meant the chances were slim we’d find anyone alive up here.
“Matt to Amy. Ready when you are.” I replied
“Go ahead, break the sliding glass door.” She whispered in return.
I took the pistol I had and shot the sliding glass door which burst into a thousand pieces. The pistol shot reverberated throughout the complex. If this didn't get the infected rolling my way, nothing would I, though.
I moved into the apartment through the broken door, releasing the lock and pushing it open in case I had to make a quick escape. I walked to the front door and looked out the peephole.
I waited by the door, peering out the peephole to see what would come knocking. After a few minutes, a few infected showed up at the apartment door and started to bang on it.
It’s interesting how they can hear a sound and know exactly where the noise came from. “I've got two infected at the door,” I said in a loud voice so the infected would hear me. Both infected let out a moan, there hunting call to let others like them know there was food close by. “Hold up a minute. Let’s see if more come.” I said on the two-way radio.
“Let us know when.” Came the reply in a low whisper.
I banged on the door and yelled to entice the infected to try and get me. The ones on the other side of the door continued to moan as more of the infected began to appear behind them, now interested in what was causing all of the commotions.
“There’s about eight of them here now. Might want to go before they break the door down.” I held the doorknob and placed my foot to help hold the door from crashing in.
“We’re moving in. Be careful playing with the zombies.” B
utch said over the two-way radio. I was pretty sure I heard him laughing through the radio.
I yelled a few more times and banged on the door with the butt of my pistol to keep the infected occupied while Amy and Butch made their way to the apartment.
The door began to give way, cracks begun to appear in the wood and the frame. I let go of the door and started to head back to the balcony. I wasn’t going to be able to keep the door closed or together. It was time to leave.
I moved as quickly as I could to the balcony railing and began to climb over as the door finally gave way, crashing open allowing the infected to begin to stream in. The first couple of infected to enter the apartment were the fast variety and I was just barely able to get over the railing and down to the balcony below.
I think they were surprised to see me disappear over the edge not sure where I had gone. They were stopped by the railing but the slower ones behind them continued to stumble into the backs of the faster ones putting a lot of force on the balcony railing.
I was back against the sliding glass door of Amy’s apartment waiting to see what would happen. “You guys in yet?” I asked Amy and Butch, using the two-way radio.
The infected above me were pushing each other against the railing and the ones in front were leaning over the rail trying to get me since they heard my voice. The force of the weight was too much for the railing, finally giving way and falling to the street below. The infected fell next, passing by Amy’s balcony and hitting the ground below. I’m not sure how many fell to the ground, but it looked like more than ten.
After no more of the infected fell, I looked over the railing and saw the mess below Amy’s apartment. The infected splattered like water balloons hitting the pavement. I’d seen some movies where the fall victim hit the ground from a great height and this was more than any movie I had seen with a splattered person on the ground.
There were body parts all over the street, a huge black blood puddle of infected blood covered the pavement from one side of the pile to the other, but still some of the infected continued to move on the ground, trying to get up or crawling away.
“All of the infected at the door are gone. They’re on the ground below.” I said over the two-way radio. “Be careful if you have to escape from the apartment, there's no railing on the balcony.”
They didn’t respond so I figured they were busy sneaking into the apartment and checking things out. I waited for ten minutes and then tried them again since they had not responded. I started to get concerned knowing I might have to head upstairs to check out what was going on.
I was concerned that I would cause more problems for them if I continued to call them on the two-way radio so I needed to do find them and do it quietly.
I headed to the balcony rail and climbed up holding onto the floor above so I could peek over the floor of the balcony above to make sure that there was no infected standing around.
I didn't see anything waiting so I climbed up to the apartment above and walked through it to the front door. I checked the hallway both ways before moving out to find Amy and Butch. I didn’t see anything, but I could hear the moans of a crowd down the hall. I walked to the corner of the hallway and peered around it.
I could see that that there were eight infected crowded around a single door trying to get in the apartment and I noticed the two-way radio on the floor just behind them. Amy and Butch were in the apartment and had no way to get out.
I yelled at the infected to get their attention hoping the trick would work a second time. They turned and saw me. They moved my way as I stood in the hallway waiting for them to get closer. There weren’t any of the fast kind in the group, so I felt pretty much in control. I headed backward to the open apartment continuing to call them and lead them on. I banged on the wall and yelled as I moved through the door and out to the balcony.
I was the pied piper of the infected. Once I saw them enter the apartment, I lowered myself down to Amy’s balcony, yelling the whole time. The infected bodies fell to the ground just like the others and this time I counted them as they fell; eight in total, the same number I had counted at the door.
“We’re headed back. Thanks for the distraction.” Amy’s voice came over the two-way radio. I sighed in relief and headed to Amy’s front door. Peering out the peephole, I saw them approach and opened the door for them. “You guys OK?”
They came in the front door, closing and locking it behind them. “Shit, that was close,” Butch said as he moved into the kitchen to grab some bottled water, handing one to each of us. “That was a stupid idea.”
“We had to try. Not trying would have been wrong and you know it.” Amy said drinking her water and sitting down at the counter.
“Maybe, it was close though and we’re both lucky we are still here, let alone bitten.”
“So, any luck with the parents?” I asked after drinking most of my water.
“We didn't see them, but the apartment was a wreck with the door wide open. Something happened in there.” She replied. “We should get cleaned up, eat something, finish packing and get some rest so we can leave tomorrow.”
“I thought we were heading out today,” I stated looking at both of them. “Staying here is just asking for it.”
“Butch and I talked about it and we’re not ready yet. We need to go through our plan to get out of here and make sure we are all on the same page.” Amy replied finishing her water. “Plus, we still have some food in the fridge. It would be good to have another good meal and leave on a full stomach.”
“You’re over ruled, two against one.” Butch laughed. “Start cooking, bitch.” He walked out of the kitchen and sat on the couch. I stood there shaking my head.
“Don’t worry cupcake, we’ll leave tomorrow morning, bright and early,” Amy said smiling at me. “Now, get cooking. Make us something fantastic.”
Since I wasn’t going to win the argument and honestly, staying another night seemed easier than going out, particularly after the events of this morning, I started to whip up a meal while they went through the supplies again and repacked everything.
After eating, we spent the rest of the day working on the plan and we spent time loading magazines of ammo, sharpening knives and building more spears. We used all perishable foods in the refrigerator and freezer since it would only go bad.
We ate all day as we worked to get as many calories as possible. The next few days was going to be junk food, canned food, and water.
At the end of the night, we had eaten like kings, had our plans set, packed our bags so they weren't too heavy, and had our weapons ready. All we needed to do now was get some sleep. Tomorrow would be another day.
Chapter 16- Day 3
I woke with a start, smelling smoke coming from outside the apartment. We’d left the sliding glass door open because the apartment was getting pretty hot with the summer heat. I got up and headed out to the balcony, rubbing my eyes to get the sleep out, but having to wait a minute for them to adjust to the sun. I noticed that the building across the street was on fire with flames and smoke coming out of multiple windows.
Looking down I saw a crowd of bodies; a mix of the living and the dead, running around the street. The infected were attacking the living as they tried to move away from and out of the burning building across the street.
Looking at our building I could see that there was smoke coming from one of the apartments to the west of Amy’s. How our building caught on fire was unknown, but it was creating quite a lot of smoke.
It was time to go. “We need to get out of here now,” I yelled to my friends as they were getting up to see what was going on. As they went to look, I started gathering my things.
We spent a few minutes taking care of the basic morning needs and then grabbed the backpacks we put together the previous night. We each loaded up on the weapons we would carry and start towards the door.
I had multiple spears attached to my backpack, easy to reach as I needed them. I had a .45 caliber p
istol strapped to my thigh, a couple of hunting knives on my hip and a few small knives in pockets all over my body. I thought about a rifle, but decided for now; this was enough to have on me.
Amy had her sword, which she sharpened last night. A 9mm pistol on her hip, a couple of spears on her backpack and one of the AK-47’s we had found in the pervert’s apartment.
Butch had his hatchet, a .45 pistol on his hip, an AR-15 we had found in the stash of guns the perverts had. Butch was also carrying a bag of other weapons and ammo in case we need them.
We had split the food and ammo across all three backpacks to even out the weight and to make sure should we get separated, each of us would have what we needed to survive.
“We should take the stairs to the parking garage. We didn’t see any infected in the stairwell yesterday, it should be clear. All the commotion out front should be drawing the infected away from the back alley, so it should be pretty clear.” Butch said as he moved through the front door.
Amy moved out after him and then headed to the apartment that we had left Shelby in. “What the hell are you doing? We have to get out of here now.” Butch said.
“We have to get Shelby.” She replied opening the door and walking in.
“We can't. We don't have the time.” Butch said while looking at me like I'm supposed to do something. He knows Amy will listen to me more than him and his look told me to get in there and get her so we could leave.
“Amy. We have to go. We don't have time to bury Shelby.” I said as I walked through the doorway.
“I'm not leaving without trying.”
She continues into the living room as we follow. “How about we do a quick service here and leave. She'll be cremated in the fire which will burn this building to the ground. The building will be her burial site.” I said, trying to come up with a compromise.
Amy stood over Shelby’s body crying and shaking her head. The stench was unbearable; the heat of summer had increased the decomposition process. I’d seen and smelled decomposing animals before in the woods, but this was new and something I was sure I would continue to smell for some time. I moved closer to Amy and put my hand on her shoulder. “Shelby Lynn Decker. She was a good person with a soft heart. She cared for others more than she cared for herself and she would do anything she could for you.” I started hoping Amy would catch on.