“Don’t worry,” Victoria agreed. The fear was evident in her voice. “Kids, stay right by me,” she commanded sternly, even though there was no need. The children were already attached to her at the hip, figuratively, and in some instances, like little Rebecca who had her arms around her mother’s waist, literally.
Monte was back in less than five minutes.
“Place looks clear,” he said. “I’ve covered all the places I could see and get into, and it all looks quiet. I think I found a good spot upstairs for us to settle down for the night.”
Monte led Victoria and the kids upstairs to a second-floor bedroom.
“Oh, there’s even a bed!” Victoria couldn’t hide her excitement.
“No bedding,” Monte conceded, but it’s better than nothing.”
There was indeed a king-size bed in the bedroom. While it didn’t have a frame, and it was stripped of all its bedding, it was a spot where they could settle down together as a family.
Monte even pulled down some curtains that hung in several of the upstairs bedroom so that the family could use them as blankets. As a final addition to the bed before he climbed in, he found a heavy, and not so flexible rug in the upstairs hallway that he draped overtop them once the family was situated.
While it didn’t make for the most comfortable of sleeping arrangements, Monte would take it over the cold hard floor any day. He squeezed onto his sliver of mattress. The bed was so crammed full of children that there was only enough room for him to rest on his side.
The kids – all hunkered together like a burrow of bunnies – were asleep in just minutes, exhausted from the strenuous events of the evening. It was a different story for the poor parents. They clung tenuously to the edges of the bed, doing their best to act as bulwarks, keeping the kids contained between them. In the process, they were the receivers of tiny flailed arms to the face, sharply jabbed elbows to the midsection, and wildly and unexpectedly placed knees and feet to the groins. But they handled the discomfort and a largely sleepless night as best they could. They were just happy to be safe, somewhat warm, and to have everyone together in a reasonably secure environment.
Chapter 8
A four-foot-high, black steel fence skirted the perimeter of Hofmann Tower. Between the fence and the tower was a roughly ten-foot-wide patch of lawn.
The tower itself had two entrances on its ground floor. The main entrance faced the parking lot on its east side, opposite the river. The second entrance was around the tower’s corner. It faced south where a short walkway ran between the parking lot and the river.
Both fortunately and unfortunately for the Blenders now making their way over the fence and up to the tower’s east-facing door, the door’s top half was plate glass with a lace curtain behind it. This made it extremely easy to break through, but once broken, it left a huge gap in the door that any biter would find reasonably easy to get through. And while the second door around the side of the building remained securely locked, it was constructed similarly to the main door. This could leave it vulnerable to biters looking to infiltrate the tower.
One of the tower’s other security gaps had been solved for the Blenders at some point in the past. The windows that once lined the tower’s exterior façade had been bricked up on all sides from the ground level all the way up to the third floor. This left the two ground level entrances as the only ways in to or out of the building unless someone planned to scale the tower’s flat exterior walls all the way up to the third floor. Once past the first floor, the tower exhibited very few exterior features until the top of the seventh floor. There, the tower took on the appearance of a medieval castle. A decorative concrete molding encompassed the tower’s perimeter just below two-story windowed turrets. These architectural elements sprouted outward from each corner of the structure and extended a half story past the tower’s roofline.
As Michael smashed the glass to the main entrance and fumbled to unlock the door, he hoped they could find a quick and effective way to block the damage that he was doing. Otherwise, he might only be leading his people from being trapped in a parking lot to being trapped inside a giant concrete and steel sarcophagus.
“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go people!” Michael urged everyone inside. Josh and Manny stayed outside with him, behind the steel fence, weapons reloaded and ready to take out any biters that might try to interfere as their families clambered inside the tower.
Guided mostly by moonlight, Patrick helped Ms. Mary and the others up and over the perimeter fencing since its gate was padlocked.
Once the women and children were safely inside the tower, and after Josh and Manny had taken out several approaching biters, the men regrouped at the tower’s main entrance.
“We’ve got to find something that we can use to barricade these doors,” Michael looked around the perimeter of the tower.
“Maybe there’s something inside,” Manny suggested.
“Maybe, but we need something quick. By the time we find flashlights and explore the interior of the tower, there could be dozens of biters or more swarming the place.”
“What about this stuff?” Josh grabbed hold of some steel scaffolding that had been erected around the main entrance. Steel tubing had been used to create a single story platform, the top of which was built from plywood and 2 x 4s. The platform created a temporary protective awning over the entrance likely meant to keep bits of the tower’s slowly deteriorating façade from hitting anyone entering or leaving the premises. A similar covering was constructed at the south entrance.
“If we knock this over, we can use its top to cover the door from the inside,” Josh said. “Come on!” he urged the others. “Help me try to tip this thing!” he said as he moved around to one side of the wood and steel structure.
“Patrick, you keep watch. Make sure no biters get close,” Michael moved to help Josh and Manny.
“Got it, Dad,” Patrick reloaded his shotgun and moved up to the perimeter fence.
“On the count of three, we all lift,” Josh instructed and then waited as they holstered their weapons. “One…two…three!”
The three men lifted, straining to budge the structure, but it was no good. It didn’t move an inch.
They stopped after several seconds.
“I don’t think the entire Notre Dame football team could topple this thing,” Michael shook his head.
“Just hold on a minute,” Manny grabbed hold of the upper portions of the structure and hefted himself up off the ground.
“Just be careful,” Michael watched nervously as Manny scaled the side of the steel tubing like a kid on a jungle gym.
Manny took a few seconds to inspect the wood top of the scaffolding. “I think this plywood is only held in place by gravity. It’s just resting atop the steel framework like a big lid,” he called down. “Josh, give me a hand, and I think we can lift this up high enough that we could push it over the other side.
Two minutes later, the plywood was lying on the ground. Five minutes after that, the men had conducted a similar move with the other entry awning and had maneuvered the plywood into place before the entrances.
Inside the tower, everything was in turmoil. People were bumping into each other, stepping on toes, knocking into unseen obstacles.
“It’s dark as crap in here,” Michael said once they had shut out the last bits of ambient light filtering inside with their barricades over the entry doors. “Did anyone think to bring a flashlight?”
“I have a little one. Always carry it with me…for emergencies,” Ms. Mary spoke up proudly.
A minute later, she had a tiny, three-inch, LED flashlight out, the power of which was surprising and certainly helped to illuminate their surroundings.
From the group’s initial observations of the tower’s ground floor, it appeared to have once been used for administrative purposes. There were several desks sprinkled around what the group estimated as a roughly 1,400 square foot space. Among the desks were chairs, file cabinets, trashcan
s, and other assorted office furnishings. In the far corner of this level was an enclosed office. In the other corner was a stairway leading upstairs.
As the group worked to get oriented, kids were jabbering away or crying. Adults were talking over one another. And things in general were chaotic. But after what the group had just experienced, how could it be any other way?
“All right,” Michael did his best to restore some semblance of order, “everyone calm down.”
“Calm down?” Christine Franko said. “Did you see what just happened to the Mendozas?”
“And where is the Hines family?” Margaret Simpson cried. “The last I saw, their van was across the street and biters were headed in their direction!”
“I know,” Michael nodded. “I saw it. I saw it all…believe me. But there’s nothing we can do to help the Mendozas now.”
“But what about the Hines family?” Julia Justak asked. “They’re still out there. What are we going to do to help them?”
There was silence for a moment before Michael answered. “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. If we…”
“Nothing?” cried Christine Franko. “How can you say that? We should try to get to them. They might still be over there, in their vehicle.”
Michael took a deep breath. “Patrick,” he called.
“Yeah, Pop?”
“See if you can get to an upstairs level in this place…something with a window facing north. And see if you can get a read on the Hines family. I saw their vehicle end up in that little gravel parking area across the intersection, but once the biters started attacking, I couldn’t see what happened to them. See if you can tell if they’re still over there. Maybe they got their vehicle free and beat it the hell out of here. I wouldn’t want to send out a rescue party only to find they’ve already helped themselves.”
“Gotcha, Dad,” Patrick nodded in the blackness. “Ms. Mary, can I borrow your light?”
“Sure, darling,” Ms. Mary handed over her small flashlight.
Patrick made his way over to the stairway, his footsteps fading as he climbed to the fourth floor.
The group waited mostly in silence.
He returned roughly three minutes later. “It’s hard as heck to see outside. I could make out their van, but that’s about it. I couldn’t tell if anyone was in or around it. It looked like the side door was open, but there’s no way to know for sure. One thing, though, there is a hell of a lot of biters out there. I could see a mass of them all centered around the Mendoza vehicle. It looked like some of them were fighting over the, well…you know…the Mendozas.”
“Jesus,” Caroline Trove shook her head.
Justin Justak was crying. He was sitting on the floor beside his mother. She was sitting beside him, cradling his head in her arms.
“Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” Christine Franko kept on, not wanting to give up on the Hines family. Her brave young boys hovered close to her, doing their best not to show the fear they were feeling. What to them had started as a potential extension to their holiday vacation had turned suddenly and terribly more violent than they’d ever imagined. And the last thing they’d expected was for the Mendoza children, kids who weren’t much younger than they were, to be consumed alive along with their parents, just miles from the starting point of their great journey.
“I understand your desire to help, sweetheart. But we can’t risk even more lives not knowing where they are,” Ms. Mary stepped in, the calm voice of reason.
“We don’t even know if they’re still alive,” Manny Simpson said.
“We have to believe they’re still alive,” Ms. Mary countered. “We need to believe that. I’ll bet you anything that they abandoned their vehicle and hoofed it into the woods bordering the river. They’re a smart bunch, and I’m willing to bet that they’re still alive. But now is not the time to try to find them. You heard Patrick. There’s a bunch of biters out there. We go out in the darkness, even with guns, and they’ll be all over us like white on rice. No,” she shook her head, “now is not the time.”
“Ms. Mary is right,” Michael stepped in. “We should settle down here for tonight. Tomorrow, when it’s light, we’ll reassess the situation. Maybe help will be here by then,” although as he said these final words, he sounded less than convinced.
There were sounds outside and the jingling of the lock and chain holding the tower’s perimeter gate closed.
“Maybe that’s them! Maybe that’s the Hines family!” Christine perked up, moving toward the barricade in place before the front door. “Help me move this stuff!” she urged the others.
“Wait!” Michael said. “We don’t know it’s them.”
“Hurry!” Christine urged. “There could be biters out there!”
“That’s just the thing,” Michael agreed. “Patrick, run back upstairs and check out the window. See if you can tell who’s out there.”
Patrick hurried off as Michael stumbled in the darkness toward the tower’s front entrance. He tried peeking outside between the scaffold roofing and the gaping hole where they had broken out the glass in the front door. But it was no good. The scaffold top was affixed firmly in place, which Michael was glad to discover. But it made it impossible to tell what was going on outside.
A minute later, Patrick was back downstairs.
“Biters. Lots of them,” was all he said.
“Okay,” Michael said to the group. “Then we stick to the plan and settle down here for the night. As soon as dawn breaks, we’ll reassess the situation outside and go from there.”
There was no more argument from anyone in the group.
* * *
The next morning, little had changed in the situation in and around the Village of Lyons. About a mile from Hofmann Tower, in their abandoned house, the Hines family had suffered through the night as best they could. While the kids had managed a few hours of restless sleep, it didn’t seem to have had much effect. They were all cranky and irritable upon waking.
“I’m hungry!” little Rebecca wailed.
“Me too,” Sarah whined.
“I know, I know. Just be patient,” their mother tried to placate them as she sat among her brood on the bed. “Let’s see what we have here,” she rummaged in the backpack that she had instructed Anthony to don before abandoning their vehicle.
Moments later, she was passing around granola bars to feed the hungry children.
“I want chocolate milk!” cried Rebecca.
“Here, have some water,” Victoria offered.
“I don’t want water. I want chocolate milk!” Rebecca pushed the bottle away violently.
“Well it’s all we have,” her mother countered.
“And you’ll be glad we have it if we’re forced to stay here,” Monte told his youngest daughter. “You all had better make whatever is in that bag count. No telling when we’ll be getting more supplies.”
“Speaking of which,” Victoria turned from her feeding duties, “have you thought about what our next move should be?”
Monte stood beside the bed, twisting, turning, and stretching as he did his best to work out some of the kinks from one of the worst night’s sleep he’d ever had. Upon waking, his limbs were like boards. His back ached. His neck was nearly immobile. He cautiously rolled his head around, moving it side-to-side, hearing it pop and crack as he did so.
Feeling slightly better, Monte walked over to where he’d set his gun on a windowsill beside the bed. There, he counted his remaining bullets. He had five rounds chambered in the gun. There were an additional 12 rounds in the box that he had brought with him.
“Well,” Monte breathed heavily as the kids munched hungrily on their granola bars, “the way I see it, we have three options. We can hold out here for a while and hope things get better. Although after what we saw last night, I’m not counting on that happening. We can try to make it back to the others, but we don’t even know where they are or…well, not to be a downer, but whet
her they are.”
Victoria nodded glumly as she listened.
“Or, and I think this would probably be our best bet, we try to make it back home.”
“Really?” Victoria sounded surprised. “You think that would be better than trying to get back to the group?”
Monte shrugged. “We don’t have any idea if the group is even still at the bridge. They might have continued on the trip without us, thinking we were done for. Or they might have just turned around and gone home too after seeing what happened to the Mendozas.”
“What did happen to the Mendozas, Dad?” Anthony asked curiously, dropping a piece of granola bar on the bed and then picking it up and popping it quickly into his mouth.
“Yeah, what happened to the Mendozas?” Patricia chimed in.
“They…well, they…uh, they had a car accident.”
“Are they okay?” Anthony asked.
Monte really didn’t want to get into the Mendozas’ likely demise. It wouldn’t do any good, and he figured it would probably just make the older kids sad and the younger ones scared.
“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” Monte dismissed their questions and turned his attention back to the co-decision maker of the family. “I’m afraid that if we walk back to the bridge, which is gone now anyway, we’ll only find a bunch of biters, no Blenders. Then we’ll be stuck coming back this way anyway to get home. With the bridge blown, we’re faced with either fording the river, which would leave us all hypothermic in just minutes, or cutting through the forest path at the end of this street and taking the suspension bridge across the river…if the suspension bridge is still there,” he added.
“That’s right,” Victoria nodded. “That bridge connects the end of the path with Riverside, just down from the village hall and library, right?”
The Last Bastion Box Set [Books 1-5] Page 27