While the sound of the shot was still loud, it was muffled by the proximity of the gun to its target. And while it wasn’t enough to kill the biter outright, it was enough to put it down. Monte figured that given time, the biter would eventually die from its injury. But contemplating the fate of the biter wasn’t something he was going to concern himself with. He had bigger fish to fry, like getting his own family off the street and out of harm’s way.
“Come on,” he said to his family, leading the way. “We’re almost there.”
He guided them down the street, almost to where it dead-ended at a paved bike path. The bike path continued to the end of the peninsula where it met with the Des Plaines River.
It was even darker at this point in the street. There were fewer homes, no streetlights, and absolutely no lights of any sort in the forest. It grew instantly darker when the lights in the homes and businesses behind them suddenly flickered and then went out.
“Oh great,” Victoria groaned.
“No, this could be a good thing,” Monte said as he led them to the house near the end of the street that he remembered from the last time they were in this part of Lyons. There was no “for sale” sign in the front yard. But from what Monte could glean as he peered through the darkness, grass had grown up high around the front of the house, and the lawn looked untended. “The place still looks empty,” he said. “But if there was any sort of alarm system, the power outage should have disarmed it.”
“Not like the police would come anyway,” Victoria sighed.
“No, I guess you’re right,” Monte agreed. “But if the alarm was one of those non-silent types, you know, with the siren or that shrill beeping sound or whatever, it could draw biters.”
“That’s a good point,” Victoria considered.
“Okay,” Monte led his family up the steps to the home’s front porch, “let’s see what we got here.”
He peered inside the front door’s glass and then through several of the front porch windows.
“Hard to tell in the dark. But it looks empty enough,” he said. “Should provide us with some decent shelter for the night. Won’t be warm and cozy, but it’ll be a heck of a lot better than sleeping outside. Now we just need to find a way in.”
“We could break a window,” Anthony suggested somewhat hopefully, the eleven-year-old boy in him taking over.
“No, that’ll make a lot of noise. Plus, it’ll let more cold air in overnight,” his father explained. “That won’t make for good sleeping conditions. Let’s look for another way. Tell you what. You all stay right here,” Monte pulled the box of ammo from his coat pocket and finally took the much needed minute to properly and safely reload his handgun. “Here,” he handed the weapon to Victoria. “I’m going to circle around the house and see if there’s an open window or door or something. You stay with the kids. If you see anything, call for me. If it’s a biter, and I’m not back yet, shoot it. Don’t worry about the noise…just shoot it. Got it?”
Victoria nodded in the blackness. “Yes,” she said.
A couple minutes later, Monte was back. “I found a way in. There was a rear door where I could break just a small pane of glass to reach the inside lock. Come on, let’s go,” he led the group around the back of the house to a door that entered into what turned out to be the home’s kitchen. There were no appliances, and it looked like whoever had once been in the process of remodeling the home still had some cabinetry work left to do. Otherwise, the space appeared safe, clean, dry, and relatively warm, at least compared to the outside.
Monte relocked the back door behind them and then took the gun from Victoria. I’m going to make a sweep of the house as best I can,” he told her, wondering just how effective his efforts would be in such darkness. “We still don’t know if this house is empty for sure. Stay here, and don’t move until I get back,” he urged them.
“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, trashcans, 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,” Mi
chael 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 Last Bastion (Book 2): The Last Bastion Page 7